


The Call

by Mississippi_moon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Poor Merlin (Merlin), Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mississippi_moon/pseuds/Mississippi_moon
Summary: A mysterious voice has been calling out to Merlin, depriving him of much-needed sleep and subjecting him to unwanted attention. Merlin must keep his secret and discover the source of the strange presence. Soon, Merlin discovers that he may be in over his head when the voice isn't what it seems...
Comments: 60
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

It was quiet in Camelot. Suspiciously so. Merlin hadn’t dealt with any wayward sorcerers, evil witches or deadly assassins in weeks. It was peaceful, and it made Merlin’s paranoia buzz warily in his chest. 

“You don’t find it strange, how calm it’s been?” Merlin asked, his spoon twisting anxiously through his porridge. 

“I merely find  _ your  _ behavior strange, Merlin. And you’re always strange,” Gaius said with a quirked eyebrow. 

Merlin ignored the jest, his thoughts meandering away. “I don’t know what it is. Perhaps I’m bored.”

“I would expect boredom to be a blessing with you.”

Merlin shrugged. He supposed Gaius was right, as usual. It was sort of nice not to have to worry about keeping the royal prat’s head on his shoulders. Still, something was off. 

“You’d better get going if you want to wake the king on time.”

Merlin sprang for the door, leaving his mostly untouched porridge in his wake. 

_ Merlin.  _

Merlin turned, his hand hovering over the door handle. “What?”

Gaius turned, his eyebrows raised questioningly. 

“Did you say something?” Merlin asked. 

Gaius shook his head, frowning. “Did you get enough sleep last night?”

Merlin didn’t. “Yes, I—never mind.”

Merlin flung himself through the door, making his way towards Arthur’s chambers. That must be it: Merlin was sleep-deprived and so he was hearing things. He didn’t quite know what had been keeping him awake lately, but he hoped to sneak in a sleeping draught later that night to break the cycle. Then he’d be back on his feet, ready to take on the next threat that would surely launch itself at Arthur sooner rather than later.

* * *

Arthur woke to the sound of Merlin tripping over his own feet. The king rolled his eyes, moving away from the eastern window before his idiot manservant had the chance to fling it open. Arthur smirked when he heard the curtains draw, having successfully avoided the oppressive light to soak up every bit of rest he could get. 

His moment of triumph was short-lived. Merlin started talking his usual chipper gibberish, and proceeded to  _ rip  _ the warm covers off of Arthur. This was a capital offense, and it would not go unpunished. 

“ _ Merlin _ . I’ll put you in the stocks for this.”

“You have a council meeting, sire. And two knighting ceremonies to arrange. And that’s just for the morning,” Merlin said lightly, as if his words carried no weight at all. 

Arthur groaned, pulling his pillow closer to shield himself from his duties. He began to think that he had been successful and that Merlin had just magically disappeared. At least, until Merlin snatched Arthur’s pillow out of his grasp with surprising strength and speed. He let it hover in the air above the king’s head.

“Don’t you dare,” Arthur warned.

Merlin dared. He sent the pillow flying back at Arthur’s face.

Arthur grabbed the pillow out of the air before it could hit him, then flung himself out of bed to retaliate. Merlin let out a comedic squeak as he tried to get out of range of Arthur’s fluffy, menacing weapon. When Arthur had gotten in a few good hits, he relented, smirking at Merlin’s now-ruffled dark hair. But Merlin just grinned at him.

“At least I finally got your lazy arse out of bed,” he said, his eyes narrowing slyly. 

Arthur was taken aback at the simple genius of Merlin’s little scheme. The bastard really knew how to get under his skin. Arthur glared, hoping to wipe that self-satisfied smile off of his servant’s face.

“If you ever do that again, I’ll be sure to run you through.”

Merlin had the audacity to look confused. “With a  _ pillow _ ?” 

Arthur shoved Merlin’s shoulder indignantly. “With a sword, you idiot.”

Merlin hummed, his hands resting on his hips in a contemplative stance. “It’s hard to take you seriously while you’re holding that.” He gestured to the pillow, still secure in Arthur’s arms.

Arthur promptly whacked Merlin again with it, before tossing it back onto his bed. The king had completely forgotten how tired he had been upon waking. 

Merlin meandered around the room, straightening things up and remaking the bed while Arthur ate his breakfast, which was now cold. Arthur supposed that was his own fault, so he kept quiet. He was content to listen to Merlin roaming about, humming softly. Arthur found it annoying, but also comforting in its familiarity. It seemed that this morning routine was one of Arthur’s only constants in his life. It was small, but he appreciated it all the same, even if he’d never admit it. 

Then the humming stopped. Without prompting. Arthur turned in his chair, ready to fire some insults, but the words died in his throat. Arthur’s bed was half-made, his pillows strewn over the floor, soon to be rearranged. And Merlin was standing quietly, staring intensely at the folded blankets as if he was expecting them to lash out at him any second. His body was rigid. It unnerved Arthur more than he cared to admit. 

“Merlin, what on earth are you doing?” 

No response. Merlin just stared, unblinking. Arthur stood, his heart jumping a little. 

“Merlin?” 

Merlin didn’t move until Arthur rested a hand on his shoulder, and then he was flinching away, as if he had been burned by Arthur’s touch. His eyes were wild as he leaned away. Something pulled in Arthur’s chest. 

“Woah, what was that?” Arthur asked, hoping his concern wasn’t too obvious in his voice. 

Merlin’s shoulders relaxed, his expression softening when he turned and saw that it was Arthur standing there. Arthur frowned. Something was definitely off.

“Oh, I zoned out I think,” Merlin said, shrugging after a beat of silence. He also frowned.

Arthur was prepared to chalk it up to exhaustion, or even incompetence. That is, until he saw the blood.

“Your nose—Merlin, your nose is bleeding,” Arthur said dumbly.

“What?” 

Merlin’s hand flew to his face, two of his fingers dabbing at the blood. His hand fell away and Merlin stared at the crimson staining his fingertips. He looked up at Arthur, his eyes wide, and Arthur suddenly remembered how young Merlin actually was. Arthur didn’t know what to do, so he pushed Merlin down until he was sitting on the edge of his bed. He offered Merlin a handkerchief and Merlin took it, dabbing at the blood that was now leaking steadily from his nose. 

“Leave it to you to get a random nosebleed. On my bed, no less,” Arthur grunted, trying to sound frustrated but not quite achieving it. 

Merlin was uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze burning a hole through the tile floor. Arthur hesitated, then allowed himself to drop down onto the bed next to Merlin. Only in such close proximity did the king truly look at Merlin, and he looked awful. His skin was paler than usual, and the skin below his eyes was dark. He looked downright exhausted. Arthur took a breath. 

“What’s going on with you?”

Merlin shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the floor. “It’s just a nosebleed, Arthur.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. He wanted to call bullshit, but something stopped him. Arthur suspected it was that part of his brain that was still desperate for Uther’s approval, even though his father had passed over a year ago. Whatever the case, Arthur knew something else was probably going on and Merlin was hiding it for some idiotic reason, as if he didn’t want to bother Arthur with it. 

“You should have Gaius—”

“I’m not going to bother him with this. I’m  _ fine _ .” Merlin stood abruptly, still holding the handkerchief to his nose. 

The bleeding was mostly stanched now, but some of it still trickled lazily towards Merlin’s upper lip. Arthur held his hands up in mock surrender.

“If you’re sure, then why don’t you help me get prepared for this council meeting?” 

Merlin nodded, turning his back to face Arthur’s wardrobe. Arthur hoped that Merlin was actually alright. He silently prayed to his guardian angel—the one who had seemed to protect Arthur his entire life—wishing that whoever it was would protect Merlin this time if Arthur couldn’t.

* * *

Merlin was used to weird. He was a warlock living in a time of magic—he had seen some strange things. He’d seen a beautiful woman morph into a troll, a goblin possess his surrogate father, and an old woman catch flies with a foot-long tongue. And that was on a normal day. 

Still, after all Merlin had experienced, he was rarely the target of strange occurrences or malicious intent. But he had gotten the oddest sensation that something was trying to contact him. Merlin just couldn’t discern if the unknown entity meant any harm. 

It had started with a voice. It had called Merlin’s name, then went silent, sliding coyly out of Merlin’s grasp. But then, in Arthur’s chambers, Merlin had sensed some kind of presence. Merlin could immediately tell that the entity was not actually there, but it was reaching out from a distance. Could it be a sorcerer or Druid, hoping for contact? Or some kind of spirit wishing to deliver a message? Or maybe it was Morgana, seeking to find his identity? That last thought made Merlin shiver involuntarily, and he tightened his grip on the pitcher of wine he was holding. 

The council meeting had dragged on for what seemed like hours now. Lord Agravaine was still debating with Lord Orlander about the value of the westernmost bit of land that had long been sought after. Merlin rolled his eyes, then realized that Arthur’s eyes were on him. Merlin’s cheeks felt hot, but Arthur simply looked amused. He must’ve been just as bored as Merlin. 

_ Merlin.  _

Merlin started, glancing around for a sign of the entity. There was nothing. 

_ Who are you?  _ Merlin thought, hoping it would reach whoever— _ whatever  _ it was. 

_ Emrys.  _

_ How do you know my name? _

Merlin could feel the presence beginning to fade, but he grappled to maintain the link. But the connection was severed and his ears started ringing. 

When Merlin blinked back into the present, the council meeting was over.


	2. Chapter 2

“Has Merlin been acting strange to you?”

Gwaine’s eyebrows furrowed, his lip curling. “Merlin is  _ always  _ strange. Must be why I like him.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, possibly even more dramatically than Merlin himself. “I meant stranger than usual.”

Gwaine shrugged, sinking his teeth into the red skin of an apple. 

“He keeps zoning out. And his nose started bleeding for no reason—”

“I see why Merlin zones out. You’re such a princess. Or worse, a mother hen. I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate being under your scrutiny.”

“I—I’m not  _ scrutinizing _ , I’m simply—”

“A mother hen.” Gwaine smirked, and Arthur ducked his head. 

“Forget it.”

Arthur turned to leave the armory, grasping for the remains of his own dignity. 

“Aw, don’t be like that, Princess!”

Arthur shut the door harder than he meant to. 

* * *

“What are you doing here?”

Gwaine shrugged in a way that was so utterly  _ Gwaine _ . Merlin rolled his eyes, leaning on 

the edge of the table. He had been hoping to sneak off to bed early this evening, since he had brewed a fresh sleeping draught to knock himself out. He tucked the small bottle under his sleeve. 

“The princess is worried about you. So, I thought I’d check in, since I know he won’t. Even if he wants to.”

Merlin let out a loud sigh. “Yes, I’m alright. It was just a nosebleed—”

“You know it’s more than that, mate. Even Princess has noticed,” Gwaine said, his eyes surprisingly serious, but soft in the dim firelight.

Of course Merlin knew that something strange was happening. But magic seemed to be involved, so Merlin would just have to figure it out on his own, or with Gaius’s help if he became desperate. But Gaius was dealing with an outbreak of illness in the lower town, so for now, it was up to Merlin. 

And Merlin just wanted to sleep. 

“I’m just tired, Gwaine. Truly,” Merlin said, rubbing his eyes. 

Gwaine shrugged again, but that serious look didn’t smooth over. “Get some rest.” 

The knight left quietly, his shoulders drooping. Merlin felt a stab of guilt for not telling the whole truth, but there was no way he could ever Gwaine about what was really going on. So tonight, Merlin would get some rest, and tomorrow he would make contact with that mysterious voice and sort this whole ordeal out. 

Merlin didn’t remember falling asleep, but he knew he was locked in a nightmare. He could feel the effects of the sleeping draught blurring his thoughts and keeping him under. 

_ The darkness was endless, curling around him like mist. Merlin’s neck prickled, a shiver racing down his spine. He didn’t know if it was from the cold or the feeling that he was being watched. He could feel that there was something out there in the dark, watching him, but Merlin couldn’t see at all.  _

Leoht,  _ Merlin whispered into the dark, holding out his palm.  _

_ His magic flickered and fizzled out.  _

_ “Merlin,” a voice called, ringing out around him from every direction. It was a woman’s voice. It sounded gentle, but grating all at once, like a steel rose.  _

_ “Tell me who you are. Where are you?” _

_ The woman laughed. “I’m here with you.”  _

_ But she wasn’t, Merlin knew it. Whoever she was, she wasn’t actually there. Not physically. _

_ “Why are you calling to me?” _

_ “ _ You  _ called  _ me.”  _ The voice was right at Merlin’s ear, icy breath tickling his neck. Merlin reached out. His fingers closed around cold vapor.  _

_ “What do you want?” Merlin knew he sounded desperate now, but he was just confused and he still felt so tired.  _

_ “You will see.” _

Merlin woke with a jolt, flying upwards in his bed. Gaius stood over him, his brow creased with worry, a wrinkled hand resting lightly on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin panted, bringing his blankets in closer despite the sheen of sweat he could feel on his forehead. 

“Merlin, are you alright?” Gaius asked carefully, his hand still hovering.

Merlin waved him off, nodding. “It was just a dream.”

It had felt like the dream lasted for days, but Merlin didn’t feel rested at all. If anything, he was even more tired than before. Gaius patted him before turning away. 

“You’d better get going. You’re already late.” 

Merlin groaned, heaving himself out of bed. His feet felt like lead, his mind numb from such a restless sleep. Who was that woman? Was she a spirit, or a sorcerer? What business did she have, invading Merlin’s life like this? Merlin was already feeling the effects of their psychic link, and it was draining him quickly. He could understand the need for it if the woman was in some kind of danger, but Merlin had the feeling that she was completely fine. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if  _ he  _ was the one in danger. 

Merlin clomped down the stairs, watching Gaius move from shelf to shelf, procuring ingredients for a potion.

“No time for breakfast today. Why don’t you—” Gaius trailed off when he looked up at Merlin. “Merlin, your nose!”

Merlin’s hand flew up to his nose again, and sure enough, he could feel blood streaming over his fingertips.  _ What the hell was happening to him? _

Merlin didn’t even see Gaius move, but suddenly his guardian was standing next to him, holding a handkerchief under Merlin’s nose. Merlin took it, his cheeks growing hot. 

“I should go,” Merlin ground out. 

“Hang on—”

Merlin was out the door before Gaius could finish.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur really tried not to scrutinize his manservant, but it was proving to be a difficult task. Merlin had been unusually quiet that entire morning, as if his mind was elsewhere. Before Arthur could question him about it, Merlin had scampered off, mumbling something about laundry. Call Arthur crazy, but something wasn’t right. He was loathe to admit it, but it hurt Arthur that Merlin was being so secretive when it was so obvious that something was bothering him. Arthur told that idiot everything, and Merlin shared next to nothing about his own life. 

So when Arthur returned to his chambers after a long day at the training fields, he could feel that he was close to snapping. The king shut the door with a tired sigh, then turned to find Merlin standing over a fresh tub of bathwater. Arthur felt his shoulders relax at the thought of a warm bath after such a long and frustrating day. However, it was certainly strange that Merlin was suddenly so on top of things. 

“What’s this, then?” 

Merlin startled and looked up from the tub, as if he just realized that Arthur was standing there. 

“Erm… a bath, sire.” 

Arthur cringed inwardly at the formal addression. He played it off with an eye roll. 

“I know what a bath is,  _ Merlin.  _ I’m just not sure why you’ve suddenly decided to be competent.”

Merlin blinked, his nose wrinkling comically. Arthur felt a flash of hope.

“You’re complaining about my productivity?”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s just not like you, I suppose.”

“Well, sorry.” Merlin also shrugged.

Arthur chuckled a little at Merlin’s confusion, but he still felt a twinge of frustration fizzling underneath. Why couldn’t he ever get through to Merlin the way that Merlin got through to Arthur? It was maddening. 

“I wish you would just tell me what’s been bothering you,” Arthur said quietly. He hadn’t really meant to say it out loud.

Merlin’s brow furrowed, his lips pressed in a thin line. “I’ve already told you, I’m—”

“ _ Fine _ . Right. I don’t even know why I bother. You’re always keeping things from me.” 

“Arthur, I—”

“Trust goes both ways, Merlin. I thought you were supposed to be my friend. I guess I was wrong.”

The words came out harsher than Arthur meant, but he wasn’t about to take it back. He even relished the look of hurt on Merlin’s face for a moment. But then the moment passed, and Arthur just felt guilty. Merlin looked pale, his eyes glassy. For gods’ sake,  _ Merlin  _ looked guilty—that look did not belong on his face. After all, Arthur was just worried about him, and instead of coaxing the truth out of Merlin, he had just lashed out at his closest friend instead. 

“I’ll just go get your dinner,” Merlin whispered, bolting for the door. 

“Merlin—”

The door slid shut. Arthur sighed. Even when he treated Merlin unfairly, the servant still clung to his gentle nature. Arthur wanted Merlin to throw a punch, or at least yell back in self-defense. But no. Instead, he absorbed the harsh words graciously and it made Arthur feel so much worse. 

Arthur was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear Merlin reenter. That is, until he heard a plate fall with a startling crash. Arthur jumped a mile high. 

“ _ Lords _ , Merlin! What—”

The second Arthur got a good look at Merlin, he knew something was wrong. Merlin was staring at Arthur, his eyes round and frightened. That was all the warning Arthur had before Merlin’s eyes rolled up and he dropped bonelessly to the floor. Arthur darted forward, but he wasn’t quick enough to protect Merlin’s head from hitting the ground. But what came after was far worse. 

Arthur thought that Merlin had just been shivering, most likely from a fever. But when the king laid a hand on Merlin’s forehead, there was no sign of a temperature. So why was Merlin shaking so much? 

Arthur’s heart thudded harder in his chest when Merlin’s tremors turned into full-on convulsions. Arthur had no idea what to do, so he held a hand under Merlin’s head to stop him from harming himself. The sheer force at which Merlin’s head hit Arthur’s hand made him wince, and the small, involuntary sounds of distress ripped from Merlin’s throat pulled at Arthur’s chest. Arthur tried to restrain his servant’s arms to stop the fit, but Merlin cried out and Arthur instantly let go. 

“Guards! Get Gaius!” Arthur yelled, not bothering to mask his panic. 

Merlin continued to convulse on the floor for agonizingly long minutes, limbs flailing, his eyes rolling. 

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur whispered. 

Arthur noticed a sudden flash of red, and recognized that Merlin’s nose had started bleeding again. Whatever was happening to Merlin, Arthur knew it was worse than he had initially thought. He heard a commotion at the door, but he couldn’t remove his eyes from his friend.

“Sire, are you alright? What’s going—” Gaius trailed off as he rounded the corner of the dining table, his eyes going wide. 

“Gaius, I don’t know what’s happening—”

“He’s seizing. Hurry, put him on his side, clear his airway.” 

Gaius joined Arthur on the ground, helping him hold Merlin in place. The seizure seemed to be lessening now, only minor jerks and tremors were still claiming Merlin’s limbs. Then he stilled completely, his eyes rolling closed and his breathing irregular. The sudden stillness was even more unsettling than the seizure had been. Blood was now flowing from Merlin’s ears as well as his nose, his face pale. It was terrifying—Merlin looked close to death. 

“Merlin?” Arthur was painfully aware of how his own voice shook. 

“Stay as quiet as possible, sire. Noise will just stress him out when he wakes,” Gaius whispered as he gently cleaned away the blood from his ward’s face. 

“Should we move him?”

Gaius shook his head. “I don’t want to disorient him any further. And don’t be alarmed if he does not recognize us. That is common after a seizure such as this.” Gaius then examined Merlin’s eyes, forcing them open with his thumb. He hummed, seeming to draw some conclusion, and sat back with his hand over Merlin’s.

Arthur swallowed dryly, trying to calm himself down. He had never witnessed a seizure before, and it had rattled him more than he thought it should’ve. “Will he be alright?” 

“We’ll know when he wakes.”

They sat there in silence for a while, watching Merlin’s breathing even out as he laid there on his side. He looked so young and peaceful lying there. Arthur clenched his fist, swallowing down the rising feeling of guilt. What if Arthur had triggered the fit somehow by yelling at Merlin? What if Merlin had been climbing the stairs when the seizure happened and he severely injured himself? Had Merlin had a fit before? If so, why hadn’t Arthur been told?

Merlin gasped weakly, his eyelids fluttering. Gaius held a finger to his lips, signalling that Arthur should keep quiet. That was going to be hard, so Arthur bit his lip to maintain his silence. 

“Merlin, can you hear me?” Gaius whispered gently.

Merlin’s nose scrunched up and his head tilted slightly away. “Hurts…”

“Where?”

Arthur didn’t miss the way Merlin’s eyes glistened with barely unshed tears. Merlin shook his head, the fear evident in his features. It was painful to see his brave and confident friend in such a vulnerable, confused state.

“Everywhere,” he whispered, the tears breaking free. 

“That’s alright, Merlin. Just relax. You need to sleep.”

Merlin’s head shook again slowly. “Where is she?”

“Who?” Arthur blurted, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Merlin stared at Arthur with clouded eyes. There was no recognition in them, just raw fear. Then they slid closed again, leaving the king and the physician reeling in a heavy, unwelcome silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin couldn’t remember ever feeling this sore before. His muscles were tired and strained and his head ached horribly. He felt the softness of a cot below him and he could hear voices surrounding him, engulfing him, but he couldn’t understand a word of it. It was like there was something wedged in his brain, blocking him from interpreting anything. He knew he should be able to understand, but he just couldn’t for some reason and it worried him. 

The warlock peeled his eyes open slightly and instantly regretted it. He let out an involuntary groan as the harsh light drove spikes of pain behind his eyes. The voices around him grew more frantic, the tones questioning, but he still couldn’t understand anything and it made him feel exponentially worse. He suddenly felt overwhelming nausea, but he couldn’t get words of warning out. He was trapped; his body was a cage he could not escape. 

Someone must’ve noticed Merlin’s desperation because he felt gentle hands at the nape of his neck and on his shoulder, twisting him away from his prone position on the cot. Merlin didn’t have time to convey his gratitude before his stomach heaved and he retched until tears formed in his eyes, which were still squeezed shut. The hands later returned him to his former position, then moved to either side of his jaw. Merlin coughed and the hands lingered. He could still hear voices, but they faded quickly in the growing darkness.

_ “Emrys.”  _

_ Merlin shuddered. He was tired of this place; of the cold, the dark and the endless restlessness. He was truly starting to fear this woman. _

_ “What are you doing to me?” _

_ The woman laughed from all around him, the darkness swirling, shrouding her from him. “I’ve been searching for you for a long time, Emrys. You are more than I could ever want.” _

_ Merlin’s blood ran cold. What did  _ that  _ mean?  _

_ “Strange, though. I still can’t see you through this darkness, and usually they’re so easy to find. I wish you weren’t so coy,” the woman said, sounding amused. _

_ Merlin felt himself frowning. He had thought the woman could see him through the dark, that his mind had been completely exposed. Somehow, his magic must’ve defended him by creating the darkness.  _

_ “I do love a challenge, but enough foreplay. You must follow my voice. I want to see you.” _

_ “What? No,” Merlin blurted, stumbling away.  _

_ “Come now, Merlin. I know you can feel the pull, even now. Even you cannot resist it for long. All this prolonging is just causing you unnecessary pain.” Her voice sounded strangely sympathetic. _

_ Merlin grit his teeth. “I will resist you for as long as it takes, until I can find a way to get you out of my head.”  _

_ The woman’s laughter echoed throughout his head so loudly that his head spiked with pain before the link severed once again, and she slipped out of his grasp. _

“—lin. Merlin, it’s just a nightmare.”

Someone was shaking his shoulders lightly. Even that slight movement made Merlin feel awful—that horrid soreness had returned, and his head was still pounding. Merlin groaned, letting it be known that he did not appreciate the gentle manhandling. 

“Merlin? You with us?” Sounded like a prat speaking.

“No,” the warlock croaked, suddenly aware of the dryness in his mouth. “Go ’way.”

He heard Arthur snort.

“Can you open your eyes? I need to examine you, and then you can go back to sleep.” That had to be Gaius. 

Even though he still felt miserable, Merlin was relieved when he realized that he was finally able to form coherent thoughts. He cracked his eyes open, flinching at the severity of the light.

“There he is. Drink this, it’ll help.” 

Gaius held up a foul-smelling vial, and Merlin drank it obediently, cringing at the taste. Then a glass of water was held to his lips and the warlock swallowed greedily, his mouth unnaturally dry. Then the physician assessed him, examining Merlin’s pupils and asking questions.

“Everything aches, Gaius. My head, especially. Was it a fever of some kind?” 

Arthur and Gaius exchanged glances, their concern painfully obvious. Merlin shifted. 

“What?” Merlin asked, feeling rather uneasy.

“You had a full-body seizure, Merlin,” Gaius said gently.

Merlin blinked. “Oh. I—when?”

“A couple of hours ago. In my chambers.”

Merlin turned to look at the king, whose eyes were round with concern. Merlin’s face felt hot. He had no memory of having a seizure. He’d just gone to get Arthur’s dinner…

“You really have no memory of it?” 

Merlin shook his head. 

“That’s actually quite common after a grand mal seizure, sire,” Gaius explained. 

Grand mal seizure? That sounded… bad. The room fell quiet as Merlin considered the past few hours. He supposed it made sense, what with his confusion and soreness. It had to have been the strange woman’s doing—things were getting worse. 

“Who is she?” Arthur asked suddenly.

Merlin’s eyes went wide, his head spinning. “W-what?”

Arthur leaned forward, his eyes deadly serious. “After the episode, you asked about a woman. And just now, in your sleep, you whispered things… Who is she?”

Merlin swallowed nervously. He had planned to tell Gaius since things had obviously escalated, but he couldn’t tell Arthur, could he? But as Merlin gazed at the king, he saw rare, raw emotion in his eyes. Keeping this hidden had hurt Arthur, and he had no doubt been shaken up by the unexpected episode. And Merlin—Merlin was tired. He was tired of secrets, of lying and keeping his friend in the dark. 

Perhaps his mind was still scrambled, but Merlin decided to answer honestly.

“I don’t know who she is,” Merlin started after a long pause. Arthur straightened up in his chair and Gaius leaned forward. “She’s been coming to me in my dreams for days. But then I started hearing her voice when I was awake, like she was standing right next to me. I don’t know who or what she is.” Merlin was surprised to feel a tear trail down his left cheek. “I think she wants me for something, but I don’t know what,” he whispered. 

“Merlin…” Gaius whispered, wiping the tear away from Merlin’s cheek.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Arthur asked incredulously, his voice rising in volume.

Merlin flinched, his headache spiking. “I—I thought I was just sleep deprived, but…” 

He trailed off, the silence speaking louder than his words ever could. Arthur and Gaius also went quiet, the weight of Merlin’s words settling in. 

“I’m scared,” Merlin whispered, his voice almost imperceptible even to him. 

He could see the shock in the other men’s faces at his confession, but the warlock was far too tired to worry about it. After all, it was true—Merlin was scared. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. Whoever the woman was, she was attacking Merlin’s  _ mind _ . Destiny had often ruled over him and Merlin had accepted that humbly, but through it he always had clarity in his own mind. But now he was losing control over what little he did have, and it terrified him. How could he fulfill his destiny in this state?

Arthur was talking again, probably asking more questions, but Merlin was simply too exhausted to listen. The king’s voice fell away as the darkness claimed the warlock once again.

* * *

Arthur didn’t know what to think. He wanted to shrug it all off and peg it on Merlin’s idiocy and inability to care for himself. But they were past that now. There was something sinister at work that they had yet to understand. Merlin had fallen asleep again, and Gaius told Arthur to let him sleep. But was Merlin even getting rest with those mysterious dreams? 

“This has gotten out of hand, Gaius. What can we do?” Arthur asked, running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not sure, Sire. I need to do some research, but it sounds like he’s been targeted by some form of magical creature.”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve noticed Merlin has been awfully sluggish lately, and he had an unprovoked nosebleed this morning—”

“And yesterday, in my chambers,” Arthur added.

Gaius sighed unhappily before continuing. “It seems to me that whoever this woman is, she’s been draining Merlin’s life-force somehow. It still remains unclear how she found him, or why.”

Arthur swallowed, his gaze settling on the younger boy lying quietly in the patient’s cot. How could anyone ever target such an innocent and kind person like Merlin? What was the purpose?

Gaius stood, moving swiftly over to a stack of books. “This might take a while for me to research. Why don’t you retire to your chambers? It is late, and you do have a kingdom to run.”

The physician left little room for argument, and Arthur recognized that there was nothing more he could do at this time. 

“Alright, let me know the moment you find something. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Gaius nodded in assurance. Arthur glanced down at Merlin for a lingering moment, then swept out of the room. There was only one thing he knew for certain: he would find this mystery woman and make her suffer.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been two days since Merlin’s seizure. Gaius had given him permission to return to work, despite Arthur’s protests. Merlin was pretending like nothing had even happened, Gaius was still researching, and Arthur was beyond agitated. He didn’t think Merlin should even be working at all, but Arthur also couldn’t really argue with him. Not again. Not while Merlin appeared to be so fragile. 

Arthur did his best to make Merlin’s job easier, but he still seemed run-down and he tired easily. His eyes were dark and sunken, his skin pale. Not to mention the spacing out and the frequent nosebleeds that still occurred. The king was afraid that there was only a matter of time before Merlin had another fit, and it hurt that Arthur couldn’t do a damn thing about it. So, he vowed to keep a close watch over his friend in case of another attack because Gaius had taught him how to handle it now. Hopefully, Gaius would find a way to fix this and it wouldn’t be necessary. Arthur prayed that he was just being paranoid.

“Don’t worry about polishing it today,” Arthur said, gesturing to his armor piled in front of his wardrobe from where he sat at the dining table.

Merlin sighed, his hands rising to his hips as he stood over the armor. “You  _ always  _ want me to polish your armor for the knighting ceremonies.”

“Yes, well, now I’m saying not to worry about it.”

Arthur tried to avoid Merlin’s eyes, but he wasn’t entirely successful. Those big, blue orbs were burning into his own and were impossible to ignore. When Arthur returned the gaze, his breath caught in his throat—Merlin looked so much older than his own years, as if he carried a great burden, the size of a kingdom. The king hated that look. It made Merlin appear wise, but also incredibly  _ sad. _

“I can still do my job,” Merlin said quietly, his expression softening with understanding.

“You can barely walk on two feet on a normal day,” Arthur quipped, though there was no bite to his words.

Merlin smiled nonetheless, then pulled back a chair and sat across from his king. “Work is the only thing that distracts me from… whatever this is. I understand what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, but I just want to work.”

Arthur nodded. “I understand. Just—don’t push it.” 

And he did understand, better than anyone. Arthur would bury himself in his work or even in a fight rather than to have to face reality. It wasn’t a good coping mechanism, but it worked for him. Apparently it worked for Merlin too.

Merlin smiled tiredly, standing to complete his chores that Arthur had reluctantly assigned. And from then on, Arthur tried to keep things as normal as possible. He may have walked slower than usual to his meetings and ceremonies so that Merlin could keep up. If the manservant noticed, he said nothing about it. 

By late afternoon, Arthur had finished the last knighting ceremony. He was ready to retire to his chambers, but Merlin had somehow slipped away. Arthur huffed, asking the guards stationed at the door if they had seen him. 

“I believe I saw him heading for the armory,” one supplied. 

Arthur nodded in gratitude, hastily closing the distance between him and the armory. He found Merlin sitting on a bench, admiring one of Arthur’s freshly polished swords. 

“You really shouldn’t be alone.”

Merlin jumped up, the sword clattering to the ground. He let out a string of muffled curses, and Arthur couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Sorry, I—I needed to think.”

“That’s never a good sign,” Arthur said, picking the sword up and putting it away. 

“At least I’m  _ capable  _ of thinking, you prat.”

“Obviously, since you wandered off alone after… everything.”

Arthur knew he was perhaps being too blunt again, but Merlin didn’t even bat an eye. He was just staring at the wall behind Arthur. 

“Merlin—”

“What if I went to her?” Merlin blurted. 

Arthur blinked, feeling unsettled. “What do you mean?”

“She wants me for something. Maybe I should just find out what it is so I can figure out how to sever the link.”

“No. No way. I’ve seen what she’s been doing to you. Can you imagine what she’d do if she actually got her hands on you?”

“She  _ won’t.  _ I’ll be careful—”

“Merlin, no. It’s not happening. End of discussion.” Could he really not see how dangerous this was?

“We might not have a choice. I don’t need your permission—”

“Yes, you do! I am your king,” Arthur yelled, his voice rising with his desperation. 

“I feel like I’m going mad, Arthur!” Merlin snapped, his eyes burning angrily. “I don’t even know if she’s real anymore. I  _ need _ to know.” Merlin’s voice grew dangerously quiet as he defeatedly sat back down on the bench. “I just need to know.”

And so Arthur sat next to him, swallowing past a painful lump in his throat. His hand instinctively landed on Merlin’s shoulder. 

“We’ll figure this out, old friend. You’re not going mad.”

Merlin drew in a long breath, releasing some of the tension Arthur felt in his shoulders. “I hope you’re right,” he said. 

They sat there in silence for a little while, lost in their own thoughts and hopes. When Arthur couldn’t take the silence any longer, he stood and gestured for Merlin to follow. Merlin just stared at Arthur, not moving, his brow furrowing.

“Let’s go.”

“Something’s wrong—I can—I feel her presence here.” 

Arthur’s neck prickled. He glanced around, looking for a sign of an intruding entity, but he saw and felt nothing. 

“Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded, his eyes growing fearful. Arthur hated that his friend was so afraid and there was nothing he could do to protect him from it. The battle was entirely internal, and Arthur was locked away; a mere outsider to it all. 

Merlin suddenly grasped Arthur’s arm with surprising strength, his breath quickening. “Arthur, I think it’s happening again.” 

Arthur’s heart pounded, his stomach turning over, but he forced himself to look calm. 

“It’s alright, Merlin. Don’t fight it. Here,” Arthur gripped Merlin’s forearms, guiding him slowly to the floor, away from all the weapons displayed on the walls. 

Merlin let Arthur lay him on his side, but his eyes were still wide as a deer’s. “I don’t want to,” Merlin cried, shaking his head. 

Arthur’s heart broke, but he forced himself to stay neutral. “It’ll be over before you know it. It’s okay.”

Merlin shook his head again, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m so scared,” he whispered.

Arthur shushed him, wiping the tears away. If Merlin was scared, then Arthur was downright terrified. He whispered quiet assurances as Merlin grabbed desperately at his tunic, curling the fabric into his fist. 

“Merlin, just close your eyes. It’ll be over soon.” Arthur was surprised at how gentle his own voice sounded.

Merlin obeyed, his eyes squeezing shut. His panic seemed to lessen slightly as Arthur continued to shush him, his fingers rubbing Merlin’s arm. 

“She’s here,” Merlin whispered shakily.

Arthur didn’t have time to respond before Merlin’s back arched and the convulsions started, more intensely than the first time. Arthur struggled to keep his hold on him as Merlin’s limbs went wild and slammed into him repeatedly. The king barely even felt the blows in Merlin’s weakened state nor did he mind them—all he felt was cold fear pooling in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he could handle much more of this, and he knew Merlin certainly couldn’t. Arthur saw a familiar trickle of red dripping from Merlin’s nose, and it suddenly sunk in that Merlin might be dying. 

Merlin continued to seize, every part of his body convulsing unnaturally. His throat made small, involuntary sounds of distress that pulled at Arthur’s heartstrings. Arthur didn’t even realize he had been tearing up until he noticed his vision blur. He refused to let go of Merlin, so he let the tears roll slowly down his cheeks as he helplessly watched his friend suffer. 

“It’s alright, Merlin. Just ride it out,” Arthur whispered, even though he was sure that he couldn’t be heard. Merlin was a million miles away, locked in an internal battle. 

When Merlin finally stilled, Arthur released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. This fit was much longer than the first, and it worried him. Arthur cleaned the blood away from under Merlin’s nose and the small trickle from his ears. He then sat forward on his haunches, his hands holding Merlin on his side as he listened to the servant’s breathing slowly even out. Arthur waited patiently, letting his own breathing return to normal, his thudding heart slowing to a regular pace. After a while, Arthur felt his limbs going numb, but he ignored it, refusing to leave Merlin’s side.

Though he pretended to be calm for Merlin’s sake, he was growing more and more terrified as Merlin’s condition worsened. What if Gaius never found the answer? And what if he did, and Arthur still remained helpless? What if Merlin faded away into nothing, or what if his heart stopped during another fit?

Arthur leaned over Merlin’s side and pressed a finger to his neck. There was a weak, erratic pulse, but it was there. Arthur sighed in relief. 

Merlin took longer to rouse this time. When he did, it was gradual. Merlin let out a small gasp, his arm jerking strangely towards his head.

“Shhh, Merlin. It’s alright. You’re safe,” Arthur whispered as gently as he could.

Merlin stared blearily at Arthur. “What?” 

“You’re safe,” the king repeated.

Merlin just flinched, as if Arthur had shouted. “I don’t know… I don’t…”

Arthur’s chest ached, and he resorted to carding his fingers through Merlin’s dark hair. Arthur’s words were just confusing Merlin and stressing him out even more, so he kept silent. Once again, Merlin’s eyes filled with tears as he lay there on the floor. Arthur just gently wiped them away until Merlin finally fell asleep.

Arthur figured it was safe to move him now, so he gently slid an arm under Merlin’s shoulders and his knees and carried him all the way from the armory to his room. Thankfully, he didn’t run into very many people on his way to the physician’s chambers. He received some strange looks, but no one tried to interrogate him. 

Arthur kicked the door open, and Gaius sprang up from where he was reading on the bench. His expression softened when he saw Merlin dangling in Arthur’s arms, and he nodded in understanding. The physician wordlessly opened the door to Merlin’s bedroom and Arthur laid his small burden down on the bed. They both crept quietly out of the room and Gaius shut the door behind them.

“Another one?” Gaius asked quietly.

Arthur nodded. “Any luck?” 

Gaius sighed, shaking his head. “There are many possibilities, sire, but none are specific enough to what Merlin has described. I was so sure it was some kind of wraith feeding off his psychic energy, but it can’t be. Wraiths must drain their victims through physical contact, and whatever this woman is, she does it from afar.”

Arthur shook his head. “It’s getting worse, Gaius. His seizure was much longer this time. I’m not sure he can survive much more of this.”

Gaius’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide with worry. He looked exhausted.

“I’ll help you research,” Arthur offered, grabbing a book from the pile on the table and settling down on a bench.

“Your majesty, you can’t possibly—”

“I can’t sit around and do nothing anymore. I want to help,” Arthur said firmly, letting his kingly voice cement his authority.

Gaius looked like he wanted to argue, but after a moment, his eyes softened. “Thank you, Arthur.” 

Arthur smiled, though he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll find a way to fix this.”


	6. Chapter 6

_ Merlin felt a cold hand on his cheek. He shivered, pulling away from the ice on his skin. _

_ “I can touch you now, Emrys.” _

_ “Stay away,” Merlin growled, though his voice was too quiet. Too unsure.  _

_ “I admit, I underestimated your power, but it is wearing thin now. Soon, I will be able to see you.”  _

_ Merlin cringed as he felt the icy fingers trailing through his hair, but he was too tired to move away this time. His body trembled with every breath he took. _

_ “You’re exhausted. Just stop fighting me and the pain will stop.” _

_ Merlin laughed bitterly, the sound falling flat as if swallowed by the ravenous darkness. “So you can kill me?” _

_ The fingers froze, then trailed down to the back of his neck. He felt a cold gust of wind brush past his hair and he shivered violently.  _

_ “You’re worth so much more to me alive, Merlin,” the woman purred.  _

_ Merlin’s head spiked with pain as his magic lashed out with a mind of its own. Merlin cried out in pain as he fell over, his own power overwhelming him. He heard the woman yell in frustration, but at least those terrible, cold fingers weren’t touching him anymore. He let that thought comfort him as he curled in on himself, waiting for the darkness to close in. _

“ _ Gods,  _ Gaius. What was that?”

“It must be another nightmare.”

“He was  _ screaming.  _ I thought—”

“His nose is bleeding again. Could you get me a handkerchief, sire?”

Merlin heard some rustling before he felt a soft cloth under his nose. He was still too tired to open his eyes and his head was throbbing.

“These nosebleeds… what do you make of them?” Merlin finally realized it was Arthur’s voice.

“I’m not sure. My best guess is that he’s fighting against whatever is invading his mind, but it causes severe mental strain.” Merlin heard Gaius sigh next to him. “I think he’s in a lot more pain than he’s letting on.”

Merlin wanted to argue, but he lacked the strength to even open his mouth. He could already feel himself slipping away. The voices around him faded in and out as he slipped away again.

* * *

The next time Merlin woke, pale sunlight was streaming in through the window and drenching his eyelids in light. He roused slowly, his eyelids heavy with fatigue and his head still pounding, although less than before. It took a couple of tries to sit up. His soreness and the aching in his head was becoming a worryingly familiar sensation, and as his mind cleared, Merlin figured that he had had another seizure.

_ Soon, I will be able to see you _ , the woman had said. 

Merlin was running out of time. 

With great effort, the warlock hoisted himself off his bed and made for the door. It was so quiet that he figured Gaius was out on his rounds, so when he burst through the door he was surprised to find both the physician and the king of Camelot leaning over a mound of large books. Arthur had fallen asleep and was now drooling on his own arm while Gaius looked like he was nodding off but fighting it. Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at Arthur, whose mouth was still hanging open and his snores filled the quiet room.

Gaius’s head snapped up at the sound of Merlin’s barely stifled laughter, and the old man’s expression lost some of its fatigue as his eyes softened with relief.

“Merlin! How are you feeling?” Gaius asked, practically springing up to scrutinize his ward more closely.

Arthur let out a loud snort as he jolted awake and Merlin’s choked off laugh finally broke free.

“Better now, Gaius. Thanks,” Merlin said, though his eyes were fixed on Arthur, who was indiscreetly wiping drool off of his face. 

Arthur cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable under Merlin’s gaze. “What?” he asked incredulously, as if he didn’t know.

“Oh, nothing. What are you doing here, anyways?” Merlin asked, dodging the subject. 

“I, uh—we were researching.”

Merlin felt his eyebrows rise as he sat slowly on the bench, mindful of his ever-present soreness. “Yeah? Find anything interesting?”

Arthur grunted. “You’d be amazed at the sheer number of mythical creatures that have been written about. And you decided to get attacked by one that is  _ impossible _ to find.”

Merlin scoffed. “I hardly decided anything. How is any of this my fault?”

“You attract this sort of thing, Merlin. You’re an anomaly.” Merlin raised an eyebrow at that and Arthur rolled his eyes. “And yes, that’s an insult.”

“Right. And still, you’ve never really fathomed me out.” 

“There’s nothing  _ to  _ fathom,  _ Mer _ lin. You shovel horse dung for a living.”

“I do  _ much  _ more than that—”

“As much as I love to hear such relentless arguing so early in the morning, can I ask you both to please be silent?” 

Merlin’s mouth fell closed as he saw the tortured look on his guardian’s face. The old physician looked entirely spent after days of endless researching that, according to Arthur, had gotten nowhere. Merlin felt a stab of guilt rising in his chest and he attempted to swallow it down. Arthur also ducked his head shamefully.

“Sorry Gaius,” Merlin whispered.

Gaius smiled softly. “It’s alright, my boy.”

Merlin sighed, feeling anything but alright. His condition was putting a strain on the people he loved and made them worry. Even Arthur was sacrificing his duty as king to do  _ research _ . For  _ Merlin. _ Everything about this situation was backwards.

Merlin reached out for Gaius’s withered hand and held it gently, as if he might shatter from contact. “Please get some rest, Gaius. You’re running yourself into the ground.”

Gaius patted Merlin’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me, Merlin. I have to—”

“I always worry about you, especially now. Please, you’re no good to anyone if you make yourself unwell.”

The physician sighed, and his eyes drooped. The corners of his eyes crinkled with his small, grateful smile. “Alright, just a few hours. But wake me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

Merlin nodded. “Of course.”

The warlock watched as Gaius retreated to his cot, where hopefully he would be resting for the next couple of hours. Arthur had returned his gaze to the book he was holding, probably in an attempt to give them a bit of privacy. It was a small gesture, but Merlin appreciated it all the same. 

“Thanks,” Merlin said.

Arthur looked up. “For what?”

“For being there for him last night,” Merlin said with a shrug. “And for—you know—being there for me. That’s the second time I’ve put you through that.” 

Arthur shut his book with more force than necessary. “ _ You  _ haven’t put me through anything. It was whatever that  _ thing  _ is that’s been hurting you. None of this is your fault.”

Merlin turned his gaze away and faced the window, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m still sorry.”

“Dammit, Merlin. Why can’t you ever care about yourself?”

Merlin blinked as his thoughts suddenly left him, as if they had been sucked right out. 

“You’re important to a lot of people, even if you don’t realize it,” Arthur whispered.

Merlin could feel Arthur’s gaze on him, but he couldn’t meet it. He couldn’t tell Arthur that his own life served only one purpose, and that was to protect him. 

Arthur stood slowly, as if he was considering whether or not he should stay. 

“I have to go, but I’ll be back later tonight. If you try to come to work today, I’ll end you myself.”

Merlin mirrored Arthur’s smirk as he watched the king walk out. The warlock spent the next few hours reading through the pile of books and listening to the reassuring sound of Gaius’s light snoring. But it didn’t take long for him to become frustrated, as the research was still getting nowhere and he could feel the overwhelming urge to simply seek the creature out. 

After all, he was still a powerful warlock and could physically defend himself. He would just have to be extra cautious, since this woman had her talons sunk deep into his mind. 

Merlin sighed deeply, turning his head towards Gaius, who was still snoring peacefully. He knew that Gaius would be angry at him for blindly seeking this woman out without first knowing what exactly she was, but Merlin had decided that enough was enough. Nodding with finality, Merlin pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled down a brief note:

_ Gaius, _

_ I’m taking a walk to the lower town to clear my head. I’ll be back by sundown. _

_ ~M _

Merlin figured that he could eliminate this threat by sundown. He could sense the woman’s presence and she wasn’t terribly far. If he was quick and careful, he could sneak up on her, figure out how to deal with her and get out. Simple. 

As Merlin eased the door closed, he gazed fondly at his surrogate father before sprinting off down the stairwell.


	7. Chapter 7

It was past midday by the time Merlin left Camelot. He had taken some painkillers for his constant headache and soreness, but he still felt like he was walking through molasses. The bustling of the city around him could hardly be heard over the ringing in his ears. Merlin considered turning back several times, but now that he was out of the castle, the link was growing stronger. It felt like Merlin was being physically pulled out of Camelot and closer to  _ her. _

As Merlin reached the gates to the citadel, he felt an awful churning in his stomach.  _ His magic.  _ It was warning him to turn back. With great effort, the warlock stopped walking. However, when he tried to turn back, pain spiked in his forehead and he choked back a yelp. 

There was no question about it now. Merlin had made his decision and there would be no turning back. 

Taking a deep breath, Merlin continued forward until he was out of the city walls. He nodded to the guards positioned there and they nodded back, familiar with Merlin’s habitual herb-picking. The sun felt nice on his face, and Merlin realized that he hadn’t spent much time outside since this whole thing started. He had forgotten how much he loved the open air and the freedom and solitude had granted him from time-to-time. 

But soon, Merlin’s own feet had dragged him from the sunlight and into the thick forest ahead. The woods were unusually quiet, devoid of the usual sound of birds and other animals rustling in the undergrowth. Merlin found it unsettling. In the eerie silence, it didn’t take long for Merlin to pick up on the small sounds coming from behind him. Someone had been trailing him. Merlin paused, turning his head back. 

“I know you’re there. Come out and face me.” 

The trees swayed innocently around him. The forest remained quiet. 

“ _ Face me,”  _ Merlin demanded, his voice dripping with rage. 

Something emerged then from the bushes. Merlin held a hand out, prepared to cast a spell, but he recognized the brown mop of hair and the chainmail coming his way. Merlin sighed exasperatedly, lowering his hand. 

“ _ Gwaine!  _ Why are you following me?” Merlin said through clenched teeth. 

Gwaine still had his hands up in mock surrender as he closed the distance between them. 

“I was going to come talk to you in the lower town, but then you were acting all flighty and didn’t even notice me standing there.” Gwaine’s airy expression melted into a frown. “What are you doing out here?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Collecting some herbs, like I  _ always  _ do.” 

Gwaine hummed. “Want some company?”

Merlin did, and he wanted desperately to say it. He was tired of fighting alone and lying to his closest companions, but in the end, he did it for their safety. 

“No, Gwaine. I’ll be fine.” 

Gwaine frown did not soften. “Merlin, something’s been going on with you lately. We’ve all noticed, and everyone’s worried. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but I’m coming with you.”

“Gwaine, I’m—”

“If you say fine, I’ll break your nose.” 

Merlin couldn’t help but smirk, and Gwaine returned it with a lopsided grin. Merlin really was grateful for his concern, even if it made things more difficult for him. Merlin continued on through the forest, now with Gwaine at his heels. There was no way that Merlin could turn back now with that horrible pain in his head, so Merlin would just have to figure out a way to fight this thing without revealing himself to Gwaine. 

This day just got better and better. 

* * *

Council meetings always dragged on and on, but today had been especially slow. All the king could seem to think about was how Merlin was getting worse and how scared he was. Arthur often called Merlin a coward, but in truth, he had never seen Merlin afraid. 

Arthur trudged straight to the physician’s chamber after the council meeting had concluded. He groaned internally at the thought of another night of research, but those thoughts quickly fled his mind when he opened the door. 

The room was chaos. Books were strewn about, as if an animal had torn through them. When Arthur spotted Gaius, the old man’s eyes were frantic and filled with worry. 

“Gaius, what—”

“Merlin’s gone.”

“ _ What? _ ” Arthur spun back around, sprinting for the door. The  _ idiot _ . He’d gone and done it now. He  _ went after it.  _ By himself. Arthur could scream. 

“Sire, wait!”

“I have to find him!”

“I know, but first, I know what the creature is.”

Arthur spun on his heels, once again facing Gaius. The old man looked wild as he held open a massive book for Arthur to look at. 

“A succubus?” Arthur asked, reading from the print. 

“Yes, but a rare subspecies. That’s why it took me so long to figure it out. The succubus is a female demon that typically seduces its victim in his sleep. However, this particular one feeds off of men that have strong psychic energy before luring them in to be drained entirely.”

Arthur swallowed. “Drained how?”

Gaius grimaced. “I’m not sure. It’s not clear, but it can’t be good. This creature can drain people instantly, or hold them captive for weeks by feeding off them slowly, depending on its preference.”

“And then?” Arthur’s heart was pounding. 

“Eventually, they die.”

Arthur’s fist clenched. This demon had already gone too far. There was no way Arthur would let it get Merlin. It would never see another day. 

“How do I kill it?” Arthur all but growled. 

“That’s the tricky thing,” Gaius said with a sigh. “It has a physical body, but it cannot be killed by any weapon. It must be killed where it manifests its power—in the link between Merlin and its own mind. That link is its biggest weakness. If Merlin can sever it, the creature will perish.”

“There has to be another way. Have you  _ seen  _ Merlin lately? He can’t fight this thing off by himself!”

“You underestimate him, sire. His body may be suffering, but his mind is strong. He has resisted this creature far longer than most can. You must tell him how to fight it, but it will be up to him to destroy it.”

Arthur’s stomach churned. He always knew how stubborn and strong Merlin really was, but Arthur hated that he was still powerless to help him. To  _ protect  _ him. It hurt like a festering wound in his gut. 

As Arthur steeled himself to make for the stables, he felt a gentle but firm hand on his arm. 

“One more thing. This creature can appear as anything it wants to. Do not trust anyone.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Where exactly are we headed, Merlin?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know, exactly?” 

Gwaine shrugged. “Until I get a real answer, I suppose.” 

Merlin wrinkled his brow. “Then you’re wasting your breath.”

“You’re a puzzle, Merlin. What makes you the way that you are?”

“Luck,” Merlin said shortly. 

He paused for a moment, then turned himself slightly to the east before continuing. The trees were thinning out, the underbrush rolling downward to the edge of a small pond. The light flooding in through the foliage was golden, a last breath of brilliance before twilight. 

Merlin suddenly felt the pull subside, as if the woman had once again vanished, melting from his grasp. Merlin yelled out in frustration. 

“Where— _ what  _ are you?” Merlin called to the wind. 

His knees suddenly met the ground, his head bowed as he stared at the edge of the water. The warlock felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, and Merlin glanced up. 

“You alright, mate?”

Merlin nodded slightly. “Yeah, fine. We should—”

Merlin caught Gwaine’s reflection in the water, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn’t  _ Gwaine.  _ It was something  _ else _ hovering over him, touching his shoulder. He suddenly felt cold, like he had in his dreams. Merlin couldn’t tear his eyes away from that awful reflection—the thing had gray skin, sunken and stretched thinly over its bones. It’s eyes were pure white, its sharp teeth bared through its missing lips. 

Merlin felt so  _ cold.  _

“We should go,” Merlin whispered, his voice leaving him. 

Merlin stood slowly, trying to appear undisturbed, but he had a feeling the thing knew he had seen it. 

“You sure you don’t want to rest for a bit? You look exhausted, Merlin.” 

_ Gods _ , the thing looked and acted so much like Gwaine. How did it know how to act just like him? 

“I’m fine.”

Gwaine— _ not Gwaine _ —smirked, his soft brown eyes crinkling in the corners. Merlin’s skin crawled. It was all so wrong. 

“Did you find what you were looking for, Emrys?”

Merlin’s breath hitched. “How did you—”

“Our minds are linked, Merlin. I can make you perceive almost anything I want. I masked my presence from you and made a false trail.” The creature stepped forward, backing Merlin up to the water bank. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, but I’ve never seen the likes of you before. You’re special.”

The thing that looked so much like Gwaine— _ exactly  _ like Gwaine—reached a hand out towards Merlin’s cheek. The warlock didn’t utter a spell, but his magic knew this entity well and recoiled in its presence. Merlin felt his eyes burn gold as a blast of power erupted from him, knocking the creature back. It must’ve lost hold on its form, because Gwaine melted away, leaving the wretched demon staring back at Merlin with its terrible white eyes. The warlock shivered, but he held his ground despite how exhausted he suddenly felt. The blast of magic had drained what little strength he had left after days of strain and lost sleep.

“You never fail to surprise me, Emrys, but I fear you’ve only wasted your energy. I have searched for you for far too long to give up so easily.” 

Its voice had changed from Gwaine’s to that familiar woman’s voice that had invaded his mind for so long, but even now it was grating and snake-like, too loud for Merlin’s ears. Each word drove a spike of pain into Merlin’s skull, as if it was talking in his mind as well. 

Merlin was panting now, anger rising in his very veins. “Why? Why me?”

This time, when the  _ thing  _ came close, Merlin’s magic flickered but fizzled out as the cold took over. It was hard to breathe. Merlin was frozen, unable to move or think. He felt those icy fingers slide over the back of his neck, and something brushed against his jaw as it whispered in his ear. 

“Because with you, I can live forever.”


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur rode like hell. He had picked up a trail that seemed to have been made by two people walking through the forest. Arthur shivered, hoping that Merlin had been the one following the creature. But the horrible, twisting feeling in his gut suggested that that was not the case. The king spurred his horse on, wary of the fading light and the fear that he’d lose Merlin forever in the darkness if he wasn’t quick enough.

Merlin had quite the head start on Arthur, but he was one of the best trackers in Camelot. Arthur thundered through the forest, tearing through the undergrowth relentlessly. He reached for his sword to make sure it was still there, despite the fact that Gaius had said it would be useless. It was a comfort to him nonetheless. 

Arthur rode on until his legs were numb. He only took a short break to let his horse rest, and that’s when he noticed it. The birds had all gone quiet, and not even the wind rustled the trees. It was silent. Arthur felt an inexplicable chill climb up his spine. There was something unnatural in the woods, and it was close. 

_ Please, let Merlin be safe.  _ Arthur prayed, though to whom he wasn’t quite sure.

Like some twisted response, Arthur heard a cry of pain that was quickly muffled. But it was enough. Arthur drew his sword, following the sound, his heart constricting. 

“Merlin?” Arthur called cautiously.

The forest was quiet again.

“Merlin! Where are you?” 

“Arthur?”

Arthur whirled around to see Merlin standing there, favoring his right arm, but alive and breathing. Arthur couldn’t stop himself from sighing loudly with relief. 

“ _ Merlin.  _ You’re alright!”

Merlin grinned in that way that made him so…  _ Merlin.  _ He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m alright. Took a tumble back there. Arthur, what are you doing out here?”

Arthur frowned. “I could ask you the same question. What happened? Did you find the monster?”

Merlin shrugged again. “I felt its presence out here, but it just vanished. I couldn’t find the thing.”

“I saw two sets of tracks. You’re sure you didn’t see anything?” Arthur asked, his eyes narrowing. 

The sun was now setting, but the cold that surrounded Arthur was far icier than it should have been. It wasn’t natural. 

Merlin raised his hands innocently. “I swear, I didn’t see anyone. Besides, you’re always talking about how unobservant I am.”

Arthur’s neck prickled. Merlin would never admit to being unobservant, especially since Arthur was the one who always called him that. He was too annoyingly stubborn to ever verbally agree with Arthur.

_ Don’t trust anyone.  _

Arthur lifted his sword. “Where’s Merlin?”

“Arthur—”

“Where is he? You’re not him—I’d know him anywhere.”

“What are you  _ talking  _ about? I’m right here!” Merlin shouted, his arms jerking angrily. 

Arthur shook his head and scowled. He advanced on the thing standing before him impersonating his best friend and held the tip of his sword at its throat. 

“Woah, Arthur. Let’s think about this—”

“Shut up! Tell me where he is!”

“I’m here Arthur,” Merlin whispered, his shoulders shaking. “I’m right here.” There were tears in his eyes. 

Arthur fought hard to ignore it. It was a trick, he was sure of it. This wasn’t  _ his _ Merlin. This was a monster; a demon messing with his head. The real Merlin could be dead already. Arthur’s heart clenched at the thought of Merlin lying out in the forest somewhere nearby, lifeless and alone. It was more than Arthur could bear. It was the last straw, and his anger won him over. He lashed out with his sword, slicing down whatever it was standing before him. 

The cry of pain sounded like Merlin. What had collapsed still looked like Merlin. Arthur’s blood ran cold. What if he’d been wrong?

Icy laughter rang out all around him. It seemed to be coming from everywhere.

“You two are full of surprises. You’re smarter than the boy gives you credit for.”

The voice was a woman’s, but it was all wrong, all twisted and warped. “Merlin” had disappeared, and now Arthur was face to face with the horrid creature, its eyes purely white and haunting, and its whole body appeared to be decaying off its own bones. Arthur’s teeth chattered from the intense cold.

“Where is he?” Arthur demanded, each word spat with hatred.

He raised his sword, though painfully aware of his own futility. The creature eyed his weapon, then somehow smirked with its torn flesh at the mouth. 

“That boy is a precious gift. The solution that I’ve been searching for for longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Why Merlin? He’s just a servant—he’s just a kid!” 

“How naïve you are, King Arthur. He is much more than what meets the eye.”

Arthur  _ did  _ know that. Hell, he wouldn’t be out here in these woods if he didn’t. Merlin was incredibly unique and kind, but he was wise and clumsy and snarky and annoying and he always spoke his mind. There was no one else like him on the entire bloody earth.

And Arthur just couldn’t let him die. 

“Please, just let him go. You can take me in his place—just don’t take him away.” 

The succubus laughed—it was a shrill, eerie sound and Arthur couldn’t help but shiver. “Well,  _ this  _ is unexpected. A king willing to die for his servant. I must say, it takes a lot for a human to shock me, but you two…” the demon shook its terrible head. “I’m intrigued by you. I’ll even let you say goodbye.” 

Arthur’s head snapped up. “ _ Goodbye? _ ”

The creature vanished into a thick fog, and Arthur cried out angrily. But as his eyes adjusted, he saw two figures reapproaching from the mist. It was the monster, dragging an unconscious Merlin—the  _ real  _ Merlin—forward with its talons digging into his arms. 

“Merlin!” Arthur cried, his eyes wet. 

The demon dropped Merlin unceremoniously to the ground and Arthur wasted no time. He dropped down to Merlin’s side, lifting his limp head onto his lap. 

Merlin’s breathing was shallow, his face was covered in dirt and small cuts, as if he had fallen. But what disturbed Arthur the most was the amount of blood smeared on Merlin’s neck that dropped down, wetting his chest. Arthur searched for a wound, but all he found were  _ bite marks  _ on his neck. Arthur fought the urge to vomit at the thought of that  _ thing  _ latching onto his friend’s neck and slowly sucking the life out of him. 

“Merlin. Merlin, can you hear me?” 

Arthur shook him lightly but firmly. No response. Not even a flinch. 

“Merlin, you have to fight this. Only you can stop it. You must sever the link,” Arthur whispered, cradling Merlin’s head, bringing him closer. He hoped to the high heavens that Merlin could hear him. 

The stinging cold suddenly enveloped Arthur, rendering him stiff and motionless. He could only watch with barely suppressed sobs as that horrid monster stole Merlin away from him again. 

The creature looked back at him with its white eyes, its face twisting strangely in something that resembled pity. “I need Merlin—it must be him. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, so turn back and don’t ever search for us. If you do, he  _ will  _ die.”

“No, please!  _ Merlin _ !” Arthur screamed himself hoarse until the dark mist surrounding him invaded his senses, stealing his breath and dragging him into the inky black.


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin faded in and out of consciousness for what seemed to him like days. Every time he woke, there was a loud ringing in his ears that made it hard to think. He was always somewhere different: either on tangled roots on the ground under a grove of trees, or on the hard stone floor of a cave. The warlock had a feeling they were getting farther away from Camelot, but he was too disoriented to be sure.

The only thing he was sure about now was that he was trapped. The creature was growing stronger every time it fed off of Merlin, and Merlin was growing impossibly weaker. He felt almost paralyzed, his body losing most of its mobility, his heart thumping harder to compensate for the blood loss. His magic was numb in him, barely a flicker. He’d be lucky to cast even a simple spell.

Merlin dragged his eyelids open. Even that small effort was utterly exhausting. He was in a dark cave again, his back propped up against the cold, damp stone. He barely had the strength to shiver. There was a weak fire glowing next to him that Merlin assumed was only to keep him alive enough to feed off of. The thought alone made his stomach turn.

Merlin missed Camelot. His heart ached for it; the lively city below, the warmth of Gaius’s hearth and sturdy embrace. He even missed Arthur yelling mindlessly at him.  _ Gods _ , Arthur. Arthur had warned Merlin not to go after the monster alone, and for once, Merlin wished he had listened. The last thing Merlin remembered of Arthur was when he said  _ if you try to come to work today, I’ll end you myself. _ Now, he’d never see Arthur again. 

Merlin heard rustling from the mouth of the cave and saw that thing making its way over to him. It placed a bundle of berries and some kind of meat next to him. Merlin’s stomach twisted at the thought of eating and he stared angrily into the creature’s milky eyes.

“I don’t want it.”

The thing shrugged. “You will eventually. And if I need to, I can make you eat.” The edge of its torn lip curled upward.

Merlin turned his head away. The creature reached for Merlin but hissed and drew back. His magic had instinctively shocked it, burning its fingertips. He supposed there was just a little bit left in him, but it had dwindled down even more now.

“What are you?”

Merlin’s own bitter, barking laugh surprised him, but he couldn’t stop once it burst out of him. “I should ask you the same damn thing.”

“You’re not like any human I’ve met before, magic or not.”

Merlin felt his eyes roll despite himself. “You mean  _ killed. _ ”

“I don’t know why you always insist on being so difficult, Merlin. I have to kill to survive. Besides, your magic has little effect on me and it drains your energy. You may as well get used to having me around.”

Merlin flinched as those horribly familiar fingers ghosted over his neck. The creature sighed nonchalantly.

“You really have it all, don’t you? Power, immortality, and those shining blue eyes.”

Merlin’s breath hitched, his heart dropping like stone.

“I haven’t craved anything but eternal life for so long, but now I have it.” Its voice lessened to a whisper, “I have you.”

The warlock fought the urge to vomit as he felt the demon’s teeth tracing his jawline and resting at his ear. The touch was unbearably cold. Merlin jerked his head away, attempting to control the knotting in his stomach when he thought about the creature’s rotting face  _ touching him _ in such a way. 

The demon seemed to have read his mind, and Merlin supposed that it probably did. “Would you prefer it if I looked like this?” it asked.

Merlin defiantly kept his eyes away as he hugged himself, desperate to protect himself but nearly powerless to do so. He felt delicate fingers tugging at his jaw. They weren’t as cold as they usually were. When Merlin couldn’t fight it anymore, he looked.

Merlin’s breath left him all at once, leaving him gasping. “N-no, no. Stop it!” It was Freya staring back at him, mere inches from his face. Merlin’s vision blurred, his eyes burning from sudden tears. “You’re not her…”

But it looked just like her. It was wrong. So wrong. Her hand trailed down his cheek so gently. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. He missed her like hell. 

He didn’t have the strength to push her away and she kissed him, lightly and sweetly, just like the first time. But it wasn’t  _ her.  _ Merlin pulled back and promptly vomited into the dirt. She didn’t let go of his arm and stroked him gently and it made him feel so much worse. It was so sick, so twisted and wrong that it made Merlin physically ill. His retching turned to muffled sobs.

“Please, not her. I can’t—just stop,” Merlin begged between gasps.

The warlock expected the thing to ignore him, to torment him, but it cocked its head. It shuddered, then Merlin heard a few strange popping sounds and Freya was gone. He let out a breath of relief. Even facing that ghastly face was better than the painful memories of a loss that still kept him awake at night. The icy fingers returned, sliding under his chin and lifting his head slightly. Merlin lacked the strength to pull away.

“No matter. I’m very patient,” it hissed.

Merlin frowned, but had no chance to respond before the creature pushed his head back against the stone, exposing his neck. A hoarse scream ripped itself from Merlin’s throat as the monster latched on, sucking his life-force right out of him. And  _ gods  _ did it hurt, more than the first time. His very veins were on fire, spreading quickly from his neck to his chest and stealing his breath away. Merlin’s vision blurred as the pain consumed him, invading his mind. His body became racked with tremors. He could still feel those terrible, cold fangs tearing into the tender flesh of his neck as it drank up his blood.

Then it finally let go, and Merlin slid bonelessly to the ground. A single tear flowed down his cheek as he lay there, his eyes glassy as he gasped for breath for his stuttering heart.

“Arthur…” 

The world went dark.


	11. Chapter 11

_ Arthur…  _

The king gasped, flinging himself into a sitting position. But his nightmare had already begun to fade as he glanced around. It was raining lightly in the forest, bringing a chill with it. The light of dawn was just beginning to spill in through the gaps in the trees, but it was soon obscured by the gray clouds. It gave the forest an ominous feel to it, flinging Arthur further into dread. Merlin was slipping out of his reach. He could feel it. 

Arthur stood, rounding up his gear swiftly and made for his horse. 

“Time to go,” the king announced, his voice ringing authoritatively around the small clearing. 

His knights roused instantly, as they had been trained to be quick on their feet. Leon returned from where he had been keeping watch, his eyes flicking over Gwaine, Elyan and Percival blinking awake. 

“Sire, it’s been almost a week. We can’t keep going on like this. We still need to rest just a bit more,” Leon said quietly. 

Arthur huffed, his jaw clenching. “Fine. You all can catch up with me, but I’m going.”

Leon rested a gloved hand on his arm. “Arthur—”

“I  _ lost  _ him, Leon,” Arthur said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t fail him again. Not when we’re this close.” 

Leon sighed, then nodded in submission. “We’ll find him.”

Leon grasped Arthur’s shoulder, and Arthur couldn’t help but feel grateful and a bit guilty. He had given his knights no warning when he returned to Camelot in a frenzy, babbling incoherently about a monster and a lost manservant. His loyal knights had instantly volunteered to help, of course, especially when they discovered it was Merlin in need of help. 

Arthur remembered going to Gaius before they had left on their rescue mission. The old man’s eyes were red and glistening with worry when he saw that Arthur had returned alone. The king swore to him that he would find Merlin and return him, no matter the cost. The physician looked doubtful, but he had smiled slightly. Gaius then told Arthur to try to fight the creature with silver weapons. It wouldn’t kill the thing, but it might give them a fighting chance. 

Now here they were, parading through the forest after days of tracking. The creature was steadily moving away from Camelot. It seemed to know how to cover its tracks, but Merlin was clever. He left behind small traces: torn bits of his tunic, or boot prints left from a purposely heavy foot. It filled Arthur with hope—Merlin was alive, and he was still fighting in his own way. That was all Arthur needed to continue. 

Arthur was the first to mount his horse. He watched impatiently as his knights followed suit. Gwaine was right behind him, followed by Elyan and Percival. Leon took the rear, keeping a watchful gaze so nothing could sneak up on them. Arthur could tell they were exhausted—hell,  _ he  _ was exhausted—but he couldn’t rest until they got Merlin back. 

“Remember, Gaius said this creature is most active at night. We need to take advantage of the daylight.”

His knights nodded, their jaws clenching determinedly. Arthur pressed on, leading them deeper into the forest. 

The succubus seemed to have been following a cave system, jumping from one cave to the next. Arthur had a feeling it didn’t like the sunlight very much, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. The last cave they had found had a snuffed-out fire that had gone cold long ago, but what had worried Arthur was what looked like vomit against the back wall of the cave. The king could tell just by looking at it that Merlin had been very malnourished. He also realized Merlin had stopped leaving clues behind.

Merlin was giving up. Either that, or he was losing his ability to fight back. Arthur didn’t know which thought was worse. 

The king shivered as he nudged his horse faster. The day was quickly passing and Arthur had only a vague idea about where they were going. He kept an eye out for more caves, but it felt like something else was guiding him along. Arthur was beginning to feel a chill in the air, more than what felt natural. He remembered that horrible icy fog that had engulfed him before he passed out, that awful night when he lost Merlin. His gut was telling him to follow the cold. 

They were getting close.

_ Don’t ever search for us. If you do, he will die.  _ The vile words cut through Arthur’s mind like a knife, almost stopping him in his tracks. 

It had to have been an empty threat. The succubus seemed to need Merlin; was desperate for him. Arthur still didn’t understand why that was, but that wasn’t important. The king could ask as many questions as he wanted after Merlin was finally safe again. That is, if Merlin could figure out how to kill it.

Rain clouds had now completely blotted out the sky, casting long, dark shadows along the forest floor. The horses were growing agitated, as if sensing an approaching storm. Elyan’s horse appeared to be particularly perturbed, shifting abruptly on its hooves.

“Perhaps we should dismount,” Elyan suggested, his eyes widening.

Arthur nodded curtly. He heard the swift pounding of booted feet as they each dismounted. His neck prickled. There was more than just a storm brewing. He drew his sword, hearing his knights doing the same from behind him. Arthur’s breath began to cloud as the temperature plummeted. 

“Stay alert. Keep your silver weapons ready,” Arthur hissed.

They mostly had silver-tipped arrows and several crossbows to defend themselves. Arthur himself had only a silver dagger on his belt. Fighting the succubus wasn’t the way to kill it, after all. It was mostly defense. 

“Arthur, look,” Gwaine said, pointing to his left. 

Arthur turned his head and his breath caught. There was a small cave opening, covered mostly by thick undergrowth. Arthur would’ve completely missed it if Gwaine hadn’t pointed it out. He snatched up his silver dagger, holding it out next to his sword as he approached the cave entrance. 

“Arthur?” a timid voice called.

The king and his knights swiveled around to see Merlin standing amongst the trees.

“Merlin!” Gwaine cried, his crossbow lowering.

“No, that’s not Merlin. Hold your weapons steady!” Arthur demanded, seething with barely-controlled rage. How dare this thing try to trick him a second time. 

“How can you be sure?” Gwaine asked, his crossbow wavering.

“It’s me, Gwaine. You came all this way just to shoot me? Come on,” Merlin said with a grin.

“The succubus tried to trick me like this before. It’s not him—Merlin shouldn’t even be able to stand. He’s been drained for days.”

Arthur felt the eyes of all his knights on him. They all looked afraid—afraid of hurting their friend. But Arthur knew the truth, and his knights trusted their king’s word. He met their gazes and nodded ever so slightly. 

And all hell broke loose. 

A shower of silver arrows whisked through the air and hit Merlin’s chest, sending him toppling to the ground. Arthur had been right. Merlin melted into a shrieking, half-rotted creature of bone and grime. Dark mist rolled off of its shoulders and surrounded them, making it hard to see. Arthur heard cries from his men as the creature swooped in with teeth and talons, swiping at them before melting back into the dark. The cold was awful, crawling its way into Arthur’s chest and making it harder to breathe. He brandished his dagger, waiting for the next attack.

He felt a hand on his arm and jumped, but it wasn’t the monster. It was Gwaine. All Arthur could make out through the suffocating dark was soft brown eyes. 

“Arthur, go find him.”

Gwaine sent another volley of arrows into the air. Arthur heard a piercing screech and turned away, praying that the silver would be enough to keep his men safe. Arthur ran blindly forward and stumbled in through the cave entrance. He held his hands out and walked. The last time he had been this blind in a cave, he had been searching for the mortaeus flower for Merlin. 

_ Always the damsel in distress, _ Arthur thought with a snort.

That was when his eyes caught on a dim light flickering about. His heart jolted in his chest and he rushed forward. The light was from a small fire, barely enough to keep one person warm. But it was enough for one person. One very important person, who  _ must still be alive. _ Arthur’s breath left his chest in a ridiculous, giddy sigh of relief when his eyes adjusted and he saw a small figure huddled near the fire, lying on his side near the dying flames.

“ _ Merlin _ !”

The figure on the ground started, looking up with bleary eyes. “No, not him. Just stop—stop  _ doing _ that.”

Merlin’s voice was hoarse and brittle. It tore at Arthur’s heartstrings. The king knelt next to his friend, soaking up his image in the dying firelight. Merlin’s neck and upper chest was still covered in blood and his eyes were dull with pain and blood loss. He didn’t seem to be able to even raise his head. His whole body was shaking. Arthur lifted his friend to a sitting position and rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“It’s me, you idiot. I’ve been looking for you,” Arthur said, his voice cracking with emotion. The succubus must’ve been toying with Merlin in the way it had tormented Arthur. The thought was sickening.

“Arthur… you—you’re really here?”

Arthur felt himself smiling despite everything. “It’s really me.”

“You need to go before it gets back.”

“Merlin, don’t be stupid—”

“Arthur please,” Merlin whispered shakily. 

Arthur grasped both sides of Merlin’s jaw, forcing his servant to look him in the eyes. “I’m not leaving you alone again. Not ever.”

The king lifted his servant as gently as he could, draping Merlin’s left arm over his shoulders and practically dragged him from the cave. Merlin fought weakly, his breath quickening. 

“It’s no use, Arthur. It’s connected to me. It’ll never let me go.”

“You have to find a way to destroy the link, Merlin. You can kill it. You just have to figure out how.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You  _ can.  _ You always figure everything out.”

Merlin stopped struggling, but whether it was from submission or exhaustion, Arthur couldn’t be sure. After some maneuvering, they reached the cave entrance where a light was now spilling through. Arthur twisted awkwardly, threading his arms around Merlin’s until his hand curled around his dagger once more. Arthur held it out as they stepped out of the cave, where the dark mist had dissipated, leaving four panting knights in the open, spread about in the clearing. 

“You gonna stab me with that tiny thing?” Elyan quipped, though his eyes looked tired.

Arthur frowned. “Where did it go?”

“The thing just disappeared. Got tired of eating arrowheads, I guess,” Gwaine said with a smirk. 

Then Gwaine sort of just collapsed onto Merlin, wrapping him in a giant bear hug. Merlin gasped for breath in between laughs. 

“Careful, Gwaine,” Arthur bit out, struggling to keep Merlin upright. 

“Right, sorry. It’s just really good to see you, mate.”

The knights all agreed enthusiastically, taking turns ruffling Merlin’s hair or patting him lightly on the back. Merlin’s eyes glistened as he looked at each of his friends. He looked so relieved—it made their long rescue mission entirely worth it. Merlin’s big, hopeful eyes turned to Arthur suddenly. 

“Do you think she let me go?” he asked, though it was barely a whisper. 

Arthur’s stomach twisted. No, no he didn’t. Something wasn’t right about this. But those desperate blue eyes were still on him, waiting for a response. 

Arthur swallowed. “We should get back to the horses. Let’s not push our luck.”

Merlin looked worse in the evening light. He was too thin, covered in grime and looked utterly spent. Not to mention the blood smeared all over his neck. Arthur half-carried him through the clearing, careful not to jolt Merlin as if he might shatter. Arthur was hyper-aware of every sharp intake of breath and muffled whimper, no matter how hard Merlin tried to hide it. He found himself whispering apologies and encouragement as he guided his friend along. 

“Almost there, Merlin. Then you can finally rest. I promise.”

Merlin leaned entirely on Arthur now, lacking the strength to shuffle forward. 

“Arthur?” Merlin sounded panicked. 

Merlin looked up sluggishly, but his eyes were wild, more alert than they had been before. Arthur’s heart jumped. 

“Merlin? What is it?”

But he didn’t need to respond. A horribly familiar trickle of crimson began to slide from Merlin’s nose. Merlin’s lashes fluttered, his brow furrowing in what looked like pain. Arthur cursed. He should’ve known things had gone too smoothly. The king lowered Merlin gently to the ground, but his heart was hammering in his chest. 

“Merlin, you can fight this, remember? Find the link and break it.” 

Merlin was shivering now, his lips turning an alarming shade of blue. Arthur felt his knights hovering over them, but he didn’t dare look away. Merlin winced, his eyes squeezing shut. 

“It… hurts,” Merlin said between gritted teeth. 

Arthur grasped Merlin’s hand with both of his. “I know. Just keep trying.”

Merlin was panting, locked in a battle in his own mind. His head tossed weakly from side-to-side and his hand clung desperately to Arthur’s with surprising strength. Blood was now streaming freely from Merlin’s ears as well as his nose. Arthur’s body instinctively moved Merlin onto his side before his mind caught up with him, before Arthur realized what was about to happen. 

This seizure was worse than the ones before. The dark mist had returned, making it harder to see. He could only catch glimpses of Merlin convulsing, streaks of red making him barely visible. Arthur was trembling, barely able to hold Merlin in place. He had a horrible feeling that the seizure was killing him. Merlin was dying. 

“You can’t do this, Merlin. You  _ can’t give up _ !” Arthur yelled into the mist. 

The only reply he got was Merlin’s sudden scream of agony, tearing through the dark mist and piercing Arthur’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, you guys. I really agonized over this chapter because I wasn’t exactly sure how I wanted to go about writing it. I hope you guys liked the way it turned out! Thanks always for your feedback <3


	12. Chapter 12

_ Merlin, you can fight this, remember? Find the link and break it. _

_ It… hurts… _

_ I know. Just keep trying.  _

Merlin gasped, his eyes flying open. He knew this place well. It was where she came to meet him in his mind. It was still dark and cold beyond comprehension, but it felt different. She was farther away from him. She was afraid. 

“Why don’t you just leave?” Merlin called out. His voice was stronger in his mind than it had been in the conscious world.

“You cannot leave me, Emrys. If you do, I will kill him.”

Merlin’s heart stuttered.  _ Arthur.  _

“I’ll just have to kill you first,” Merlin said, his voice colder than the air around him.

Shrill laughter cut through his mind like a knife, making him flinch at the pain it caused. “You can try, but I’ve been doing this a lifetime longer than you.”

Merlin realized too late that the voice had gotten closer to him. He felt the icy cold hovering right above him, before suddenly he was pinned to the ground. Sharp talons dug into his shoulders as the creature leaned over him with a hiss. Merlin could just make out a pair of white eyes flickering in the dark, mere inches from his face. 

“Go on and kill me,” it whispered, brushing against his jaw. 

It touched his forehead, and Merlin screamed. He could feel it invading his thoughts, soaking up every single second of his entire life. And it hurt like hell. It was like every inch of his body was being pulled apart with bolts of lightning. Images filled his head. He saw his mother in Ealdor, humming and leaning over him in his crib. She was smiling, but there were tears in her eyes. She had been so afraid for him growing up. Then, Merlin saw the first day he arrived in Camelot. He saw Gaius, Arthur, Gwen and Morgana, all so young and full of life, unaware of the trials awaiting them. Then he saw Gaius, near death on the Isle of the Blessed in his attempt to sacrifice himself for Merlin. He saw Gwen in the dungeons, on the verge of being executed for what Merlin had done. And then there was Arthur, lying on the forest floor, bleeding out from the bolt of a crossbow while Merlin was helpless to save him. And finally, Morgana, gasping for life and struggling against his hold. Each image was another knife in his heart, another jolt of pain deep in his chest. The images were all too much at once and their intensity was only growing, as was his agony. 

Merlin felt his magic reacting before his mind caught up with him. It was twisting in his chest, billowing out from him like smoke. It shimmered gold in the darkness, lighting up the face of his tormentor who was still straddling him, pinning him to the ground. Each tendril of magic lashed out towards the creature, striking it like vipers. And suddenly it was the succubus who was crying out. Merlin gasped as his magic latched onto the creature. He grew dizzy and his eyes fluttered closed.

_ He was standing on a hill. Tall grass swayed in the golden light and the smell of freshly-baked bread wafted in on the wind. It filled Merlin with happiness. He frowned _ — _ these feelings were not his own.  _

_ The warlock marched down the hill and came face-to-face with a small village. His feet seemed to be moving for him, directing him somewhere. He found himself standing before a wooden gate in front of a quaint little cottage. Before he could push the gate open, he heard laughter and his head swiveled to find the source. _

_ A young girl was running in front of the cottage, squealing happily as an older man _ — _ Merlin assumed it was her father _ — _ finally caught her and scooped her up. Her hair was blonde and curly, bouncing merrily as she was lifted up. Merlin felt her joy as if it was his own. Her father cradled her, speaking words that were lost in the wind before they could reach Merlin’s ears. The girl laughed at something her father said. Then, her green eyes suddenly locked with Merlin’s, and her smile vanished. _

_ Merlin swayed as his surroundings blurred and shifted. He shut his eyes against it, feeling the pressure in his head increasing. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it. When Merlin reopened his eyes, it was darker out, and it was cold. He was standing at the edge of a lake, an eerie mist rolling in from the opposite side.  _

_ Two blurry figures came into focus, heading towards the water’s edge. It was the blonde girl, but she was older now. Her father had her by the arm and his body sagged as he walked. He looked worn and tired, but he also looked afraid. Merlin frowned. No, he looked terrified. Then Merlin saw the girl’s face _ — _ she held the same expression. Merlin reached out, but his hand passed through her arm as she passed. It was only a memory. _

_ “I don’t know what you are, but you’re not my daughter anymore.” _

_ The girl sobbed hysterically, trying to pull out of his grip. “Father, please! I _ — _ I didn’t mean to _ — _ ” _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

_ Merlin cried out but could not be heard. He could only watch as the girl’s father forced those bright blonde curls beneath the water. And Merlin felt it all _ — _ he felt her horror, her fear and anger. He felt helpless in the biting cold, as if he too were being held under. He couldn’t breathe.  _

_ But then it was over as quickly as it had started. She floated, lifelessly, and her father walked away and didn’t turn back. But Merlin could feel it _ — _ he sensed her weak pulse, as a transformation began to take place. Her father had tried to murder his own innocent child out of fear, but instead he had created a monster that would only grow in power. _

_ “I have never had my mind invaded before. Feels strange.” _

_ Merlin jolted, coming face-to-face with the young girl, who was now standing mere inches from him. She was dripping wet. _

_ “You were human once,” he said, unsure of what else to say. Unsure of what to do. _

_ She nodded, curls bouncing. Her eyes flashed white for a moment. “It was a long time ago. And it doesn’t matter.” _

_ “It does matter. It means there’s hope for you.” _

_ She shook her head, looking sad. “My father feared me because of my psychic power, and he was right to. I was always destined to become what I am now.” _

_ Her hand reached for him, but Merlin backed away. “I’m sorry you were cursed in this way, but I cannot let you hurt people anymore.” Merlin paused, wetting his lips. It was growing harder to think, like his head was filling with molasses. He was somehow in her head and it was draining him. He had to find the link between them and destroy it. Quickly. _

_ “We’re not so different. Your mother feared you as well.” _

_ “She never feared me. She feared  _ for  _ me.”  _

_ But even as he said it, Merlin wasn’t convinced it was the truth. His mother loved him, he knew that. But there must’ve been a time when she had been afraid of him, even if it was for a fleeting moment. Hell, Merlin was afraid of himself.  _

_ His eyes widened. Perhaps their connection wasn’t just psychic, but it was emotional. They had both feared their own abilities and carried burdens that no one else could ever understand. Their shared fear was the key.  _

_ Merlin finally understood, and he knew what to do.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” Merlin said. He shivered at his own words and how they echoed the horrible scene he had just witnessed.  _

_ The girl frowned up at him as Merlin’s magic surged forward, sending her flying back into the water. She wailed, sounding far from human. The sound tore through Merlin’s mind, causing him to cry out. He felt his knees wobble, but he forced himself to remain standing. The girl melted back into her true form _ — _ the monster she now was. Her horrible eyes glowed white in the darkness and the mist began to roll in quickly.  _

_ “I’ll kill everyone you love for this! Starting with the blonde boy!” She snarled, her black lips curling angrily.  _

_ Merlin ignored the threat, pressing forward until he was standing in the water, hovering above her. His magic aided him as he pushed her face down, holding her below the surface. It reminded him of when he last held Morgana and he barely suppressed a sob. She struggled against him with unbelievable force, but his magic was stronger. He could feel her fear again, and he could practically taste the freezing water. The longer he held her, the more the pressure in his head built up. He was struggling to get air, the pain in his head was becoming unbearable. A scream tore itself from his throat just as he felt her go still below his fingertips.  _

_ Once again, the world went blissfully dark. _


	13. Chapter 13

Seven minutes. The seizure had lasted for  _ seven minutes _ . 

And when Merlin went still beneath Arthur’s fingertips, the silence was deafening. The mist had dissipated as suddenly as it had appeared, right when Merlin had gone still. Arthur’s stomach wound up tightly as his fingers searched desperately for a pulse. For a long, terrible moment, Arthur felt nothing. Then, a moment later, there was a weak beat. Arthur gasped shakily, the relief utterly overwhelming. He felt moisture welling up in his eyes, but he furiously blinked it away. They were not out of danger yet.

“Shit, what happened?” Gwaine’s worried voice pierced through the silence, startling Arthur fully back into the present. 

The king gazed up at his knights, who now formed a protective ring around Arthur and his servant. They all wore concerned frowns directed at Merlin, who was still unconscious, his shallow breaths coming in wheezes. 

“He’s had a seizure,” Arthur said quietly, pulling Merlin’s head onto his lap, though mindful to keep him on his side. 

“He’s bleeding,” Leon said softly.

“I know.”

Arthur began to swipe away the blood dripping sluggishly from Merlin’s nose with his sleeve. Merlin’s face was filthy, caked with dirt and more dried blood after days of being held captive. It was just another reminder of how Arthur had failed to protect him. 

“Search the area,” Arthur ordered without removing his gaze from Merlin’s limp form. “See if there’s any sign of the creature. Keep your silver weapons ready.”

Arthur knew he had been obeyed by the sound of the crunching of leaves as his knights fanned out around them. 

“I’m staying here, just in case,” Gwaine said, moving into the corner of Arthur’s vision. Arthur nodded, and Gwaine took that as an invitation to sit down across from him. “This creature… why did it target Merlin?”

Arthur frowned. “I still don’t really know. Gaius said it had something to do with psychic energy, but that isn’t all of it. The succubus was desperate, like its life depended on Merlin.”

Gwaine looked almost pensive for a moment, before giving a slight shrug. “That thing’s delusional, no doubt, going after Merlin.” He paused, his face growing dark. “It’ll beg for death by the time I’m through with it.”

Arthur’s shoulders deflated as he gazed back down at Merlin. If Arthur could’ve destroyed this creature, he would’ve, but he just didn’t have the power to. Only Merlin did, and gods knew if he had succeeded.

Merlin stirred slightly under Arthur’s hold, drawing his attention. His eyelids fluttered sluggishly and his body began to tremble slightly. Arthur looked pointedly at Gwaine, holding a finger to his lips. Gwaine nodded, looking like he was actually going to stay silent for once. 

Merlin’s deep blue eyes turned up slowly towards Arthur.

“Merlin?” Arthur whispered as gently as he could. “Are you with us?”

Merlin’s eyes were cloudy and glistening already with unshed tears. The seizures always seemed to make him emotional afterwards. He coughed, his body still trembling against Arthur’s knee. Arthur’s heart jumped at the sight of blood on Merlin’s lips. 

“Shit,” Arthur hissed before he could stop himself. 

Merlin began to roll over, coming in closer to Arthur’s chest. He looked panicked. 

“Merlin, you’re alright. You’re safe,” Arthur said reassuringly, trying to mask his fear.

It seemed to work. Merlin went still again, comforted by the return of Arthur’s familiar, soothing tone. With Merlin calm, Arthur probed gently at his mouth and found that Merlin must’ve bit up his tongue during the episode. Arthur released another sigh of relief at this realization. If Merlin had been coughing up blood… 

“She—she was… so afraid,” Merlin whispered. 

The tears were back now, rolling freely down Merlin’s cheeks. Arthur wiped them gently away with a sweep of his thumb.

“Merlin, don’t cry. It’s alright now.”

Merlin shook his head, his chin quivering. “I didn’t—I didn’t want to kill her… but she—she was going to kill you.” 

Arthur’s eyes widened. Could it be—?

“Merlin, did you break the link? Did you kill the succubus?”

Merlin’s face scrunched up painfully, as if Arthur’s words had struck him. “She’s dead.”

Arthur felt something in him break. All the fear and anger he had built up for weeks now finally melted away. Merlin did it. Merlin had killed the succubus. But, most importantly, Merlin was  _ safe _ . Arthur exchanged a relieved look with Gwaine, then nodded at him to retrieve the other knights. It was time to go home. 

Arthur swiped Merlin’s tears away again and clutched at his right hand. “You did it, Merlin. You killed the monster.”

Merlin shook his head ever so slightly, and when he spoke again, it was so quiet that Arthur almost didn’t catch it. “ _ I’m  _ the monster.”

Before Arthur could even begin to fathom what that meant, Merlin had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me a while! Online classes are really taking it out of me. I hope you all are safe and well during quarantine. Thanks always for reading, and please review!


	14. Chapter 14

The sky looked as if it had been stained with a deep shade of scarlet as the sun slipped away. Arthur normally would’ve found it beautiful, but the red reminded him too much of the blood that still covered the still form that was leaning against his chest. Merlin had spent the entire ride in a fitful sleep, mumbling incoherently and twitching quite a bit. It made Arthur hold him tighter. 

They stopped to set up camp when the sky morphed into a dark purple. As the knights bustled about, Arthur carefully lowered Merlin from his mare and settled him on a bedroll near where Elyan was setting up the fire. Arthur could feel Merlin shaking, but he wasn’t sure if it was from all the blood loss, the cold, or both. The king wrapped his servant in his cloak, just to be sure. 

Arthur hovered, unsure of what to do with himself now that he finally had Merlin back. Though Arthur was pretty sure the creature had been killed, he had no idea what that meant for Merlin. Would there be after effects? And Camelot was still a few days’ ride away. What if Merlin had lost too much blood and didn’t make it? 

The fire suddenly flared up, lighting up the small clearing. The flames crackled merrily, mixing with the light chatter of the knights as they moved about. It should have been pleasant. But there was a certain voice, the cheeriest of them all, that had been missing for a long time. Arthur prayed that it wouldn’t be lost forever. 

The orange glow from the fire lit up Merlin’s face as he slept, making the slight frown on his face more defined. Arthur couldn’t tell the difference between dried blood and dirt in the low light and he grimaced. He wondered what it must’ve been like, being held captive for many days while his life-force was slowly sucked out of him. It was a damn miracle Merlin was still breathing at all. 

Arthur tensed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but he relaxed when he registered Leon’s kind face leaning over him. 

“You need to eat, sire,” the knight said, handing Arthur a bowl of stew. 

Arthur took it gratefully, though he didn’t have much of an appetite. He set it on the ground next to him. 

“Do you think he’ll wake soon?” Arthur asked, though he knew the knight knew just as much as he did. 

“He’ll probably sleep until morning. He’s been through quite an ordeal.”

Arthur nodded, his gaze returning to Merlin, who shifted slightly towards the warmth of the fire in his restless sleep.

“I think I should try and clean some of his wounds,” Leon suggested after a moment of pensive silence. “I don’t think he has an infection, but we shouldn’t push our luck.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Leon.” 

Arthur knew that Leon was the most experienced in the healing arts out of all of them, after Merlin, of course. Besides, the sooner all that blood was washed away, the better. 

Arthur fell into a sort of lull as he watched the older knight gently clean most of the blood and grime away from Merlin’s face. At some point, Gwaine had planted himself down next to Arthur, his concern for Merlin evident in his watchful eye. In fact, Arthur sensed tension in the entire camp. The rest of the knights tried to keep busy, but their attention was on the servant as well. And how could it not? Merlin was an enigma that you couldn’t help but like. He was annoyingly endearing. Arthur knew that each of his men had taken it upon themselves to quietly watch after Merlin and protect him from harm. It was sorf of an unspoken rule between the king and his knights. Arthur felt the crushing weight of his own guilt for letting Merlin get taken, and he knew his men all felt the same way. They all felt as if they had failed him.

But Arthur most of all.

Leon grimaced as he began to clean away the blood on Merlin’s neck. The gaping holes on the side of his neck, now exposed with the layers of dried blood gone, indicated only one horrible truth. As Leon dressed the wound, Merlin started to pull away. Arthur frowned, inching closer so that he could hold Merlin still so Leon could finish. Merlin flinched at his touch, pushing against Arthur with his arms.

“No… no, you’re not her,” Merlin whispered brokenly.

Arthur shushed him. Gods, Merlin looked so young and vulnerable lying there like that. 

“Stop. Don’t—don’t touch me,” Merlin all but begged, but he had stopped fighting against them, as if he had simply lost all of his energy.

“Merlin, you’re safe now, mate,” Gwaine said gently. Arthur had never heard the man speak so softly in his life. 

Leon had finally finished, giving both Gwaine and Arthur a nod as he moved away. Merlin had gone quiet again, but he still tossed his head from side to side with a frown. He looked anything but restful. 

Percival offered to take first watch so everyone else could catch up on sleep. No matter how hard he tried though, Arthur didn’t sleep a wink.

* * *

Merlin still hadn’t woken. They had travelled for hours on horseback in broad daylight, and he didn’t even stir. Arthur hated the unnatural stillness and the silence that screamed at him that his friend was barely clinging to life. The king unconsciously pulled Merlin closer on the saddle, wincing at the fever he felt on the boy’s skin. Despite their best efforts, Merlin had likely gotten an infection. 

When Camelot finally came into view, Arthur breathed a loud, shameless sigh of relief. Everything about their trip home had been quiet torture. But now there was hope for Merlin. They were home.


	15. Chapter 15

Merlin was exhausted. In fact, he had never felt this drained in his entire life. His entire body ached and simultaneously felt as if it were filled with lead. He just felt  _ heavy,  _ like he was being pulled down towards the earth by an impatient hand. Merlin then realized just how thirsty he was. Even his tongue ached for some reason, and his mouth tasted disturbingly like blood. 

It was only when Merlin began to register the blur of voices around him that he realized he must’ve been unconscious. He still lacked the strength to open his eyes, so he tried to listen to his surroundings and reorient himself. However, the sounds and voices ran together and only confused him.  _ Gods _ , why was everything suddenly so loud? 

Merlin startled at the small sound of distress that involuntarily escaped him. It was then that he felt gentle hands on his shoulder and one on his cheek. There was something about the way each hand tentatively touched him, as if he might shatter, that sent a jolt of apprehension through him. The voices sounded desperate to Merlin, like they were asking him something. 

The warlock finally found the strength to open his eyes, though the light that assaulted him made him regret it. He winced, then tried again, more gradually. The first thing he registered was the crackling fire next to his bedside. 

_ His bedside? _

Merlin blinked. He was on the patient’s cot in Gaius’ chambers. Merlin’s eyes travelled around the familiar room that he’d grown to call home, and something welled up in his chest. Then his eyes locked with the old, kind eyes of his surrogate father and Merlin just dissolved into tears.

“My boy,” Gaius said quietly, gathering Merlin up in his arms.

And Merlin let himself go. If he was here, then he was finally safe and the relief he felt at that was overwhelming. He’d thought that he would never see Gaius, or anyone he had ever cared about, again. 

It was only when Merlin regained control of his emotions when he remembered that there had been multiple voices in the room. The warlock stiffened, pulling back from Gaius a bit abruptly. He felt heat flushing his cheeks as he saw Guinevere, Arthur, and Gwaine standing off to his left. They seemed to have retreated to give Merlin and his guardian some privacy, but still. If Merlin didn’t still feel like death warmed over, he would’ve been mortified.

“I’ll get you some water,” Gaius offered, anticipating Merlin’s needs as always.

“Thanks, Gaius,” Merlin said, his voice gravelly from disuse. 

The trio in the corner took that as an invitation to converge at Merlin’s bedside. Gwen was the first to reach him, her kind smile speaking louder than words as she leaned in and kissed Merlin’s forehead. Merlin felt the prickle of tears returning to his eyes as she settled back into a chair next to him, maintaining a tight grip on his left hand.

“It’s good to see you awake, sleeping beauty,” Gwaine said with a relieved smile. 

“We thought you might sleep forever, skimp on all your chores,” Arthur jabbed, though he nudged Merlin’s shoulder with surprising gentleness. Merlin realized how close it must’ve been since Arthur didn’t even call him a girl’s petticoat for crying like he had.

Merlin delivered what he hoped was a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry. I still might. I feel absolutely terrible.” 

Merlin pretended not to notice Arthur flinch ever so slightly. He had a feeling that the king would blame himself for what happened, even though it was obviously Merlin’s fault for wandering off on his own like that. Merlin would have to remember to talk to Arthur about it later. 

Gaius came over and handed Merlin a cup. Merlin drank gratefully, relishing in the wonderful feeling of cold water soothing his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had clean, fresh water. 

“So, what exactly happened?” Merlin asked after handing Gaius the now-empty cup. “I don’t really remember much.” 

Arthur and Gwaine glanced at each other. 

“Well, what do you remember?” Gwaine asked carefully.

Merlin grimaced. “Just flashes. It doesn’t really make much sense. I remember seeing Arthur in that cave and then seeing the rest of you guys again, but then it gets blurry.” Merlin froze, a sickening thought striking him with crushing force. “There was a young girl… and I—I…” 

Merlin couldn’t say it out loud. That would make it  _ real _ . Merlin avoided his friends’ eyes. What would they think of him now? 

“Merlin. You did what you had to. Whatever you saw, it was a lie.” It was Arthur who had spoken. Merlin glanced up and was surprised to see that his expression was unguarded and full of sympathy.

Merlin shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. She—it used to be human.”

“Even if that were true, the fact still remains that it  _ used _ to be human. We all saw what that thing did to you, Merlin. She became a monster, and you had to defend yourself. You’re not the monster, don’t you ever think that.”

Merlin looked down, picking fretfully at his blanket. Logically, he knew Arthur was right, but his heart still twisted up with guilt. 

“How did you do it?” Gwaine asked eagerly, though his tone was still gentle.

Merlin shook his head a bit. “She used our shared fear to link us. When I invaded her mind, I discovered her deepest fear and used it against her.”

Merlin shivered as he thought back to that horrible moment when he had to hold the girl under the water as she struggled for life, just like her father had done. What had hurt the most was that she had been innocent. She had reminded Merlin so much of himself when he was young and vulnerable. What if his own mother had done the same to him? Merlin knew that Hunith loved him, but sometimes fear can twist and warp people until they can no longer be recognized.

Merlin had been extremely lucky.

“Shared fear?” Arthur’s question pulled Merlin out of his reverie. 

The warlock nodded. “The fear of what we are.” Merlin froze again, catching his mistake only too late. His mind must’ve still been jumbled, because in his right mind, he never would have said it. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Arthur demanded incredulously.

Merlin looked to Gaius for help, feeling his heart begin to pound. The physician looked just as stricken, scrambling for the right words to say. 

But somehow it was Gwen who came to his rescue.

“Of course! Arthur, don’t you see?” 

The room was tensely quiet. Merlin was practically gasping for air, his head pounding more aggressively than before. 

Gwen rolled her eyes at the stunned silence before explaining. “Gaius said it himself that the succubus feeds off of psychic energy,” she paused, gripping Merlin’s hand tighter as she looked back at him with compassion. “You told me yourself that you were psychic when we first met, but I didn’t believe you, Merlin. But it’s true, isn’t it? That’s how you always seem to know about things before anyone else.”

Merlin was stunned. He remembered saying that many years ago to cover up his magic, but that’s all it was. 

Arthur hummed thoughtfully. “Is that why you’re always getting those ‘funny feelings’ of yours?” 

Merlin blinked, not sure if he should confirm it. Was being psychic the same thing as having magic abilities? He honestly didn’t know. Merlin just gestured helplessly in response. 

“I always knew there was something strange about you, mate,” Gwaine said, slapping Merlin’s shoulder lightly.

“Thanks,” Merlin shot back sarcastically. 

“Can you read my mind?”

“No, Gwaine.”

“Can you—”

“Probably not. However,  _ you _ have the uncanny ability to give me a bigger headache.”

Gaius took that as his cue to usher the curious trio from the room. When Gaius turned back after they had left, Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at his awestruck face.

“I guess I’m psychic now.”

Gaius pinched his nose. “Yes, I suppose so. Now, get some rest before you manage to give me a heart attack..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. This story is almost all wrapped up! Thank you for all your support, you guys are wonderful <3


	16. Chapter 16

Camelot felt like a dream now. The city and its occupants hadn’t even skipped a beat, sliding easily back into normalcy. It had been several moons since Merlin had been rescued, and the days were now growing colder as the frost began to set in. Still, Arthur thought about the incident with the succubus every day, though he seemed to be the only one. Merlin, unsurprisingly, had carried on as if nothing had ever happened once he had healed. The knights appeared to be doing the same, though they hadn’t seen any of the horrid events leading up to Merlin’s disappearance. They had no idea how long Merlin had been suffering, and how deeply it had affected Arthur. 

Obviously, Arthur had pretended to return to normal as well, for Merlin’s sake mostly. The only thing that had really seemed to change was the whole psychic business. While Arthur supposed it made sense, he had a hard time imagining his dim-witted manservant had some kind of heightened ability. The king supposed that it did explain some of Merlin’s more abnormal behavior, like his outbursts of wisdom and ability to sense danger. But still, something about it bothered Arthur. 

Arthur must’ve been zoned out, because he didn’t even notice that Merlin himself had slipped into his chambers until he abruptly cleared his throat. Arthur jerked back a bit, knocking over his ink bottle and dousing his parchment in the dark liquid.

“Dammit, Merlin,” Arthur bit out, scrambling to pick up the bottle before more spilled out.

“Sorry, did I scare you with my quiet demeanor,  _ sire _ ?” Merlin said, smirking smugly, the idiot. 

“No, it was your face, actually.”

Merlin pretended to pout, but he moved forward and began cleaning up the spill. “What were you working on? The parchment looked blank.”

Arthur huffed. “I was  _ trying _ to write a report, but I couldn’t even start it before your disruptive presence destroyed the peaceful atmosphere.”

The servant frowned. “You’ve been in here for an hour, Arthur. I was just coming to tidy things up.” 

“Well, you’ve managed to already do the exact opposite,” Arthur retorted, sitting back at his desk with a new piece of parchment. “Now, you may stay if you clean  _ quietly _ .”

“Of course, sire.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but directed his focus back to his report. He supposed he had gotten lost in thought earlier and hadn’t managed to even write a single thing. However, with Merlin’s now quiet presence, he found himself able to compose the report quite efficiently. The king would never admit it out loud, but having Merlin around always helped. 

By the time Arthur finally looked up from his work, the room had gotten dark. Somehow, the sun was already setting. Merlin was at the opposite side of the room tending to the fire. The flames cast a glow across the room, bathing everything in a warm orange light. It was delightfully tranquil. Even Merlin seemed to have gone willingly silent. And although Merlin’s back was turned towards the fire, Arthur could tell that his shoulders had seemed to lose some tension. 

“Merlin, would you mind fetching us some dinner?”

Honestly, Arthur hated to disrupt the calm atmosphere. It seemed as if they rarely got quiet moments like this anymore, what with the chaos of Arthur being king and all. Sometimes it was nice for Arthur to lose himself. When Merlin turned to acknowledge Arthur, the world flipped upside down and the illusion of a peaceful evening instantly evaporated.

There was a trickle of blood dripping from Merlin’s nose.

“Merlin—I, you—” Arthur choked on the words in his throat. The world was suddenly just too loud for him. He could hear his heartbeat roaring in his ears, and  _ gods _ was he shaking? Arthur couldn’t tell. All he could seem to think was  _ oh, hell, it’s not over, is it? We were fools to think the monster was dead and now it’s coming for Merlin and—oh hell—he cannot survive this again— _

Arthur barely registered the hands on his shoulders and the frantic voice calling his name. There was something cold and hard hurting his knees and Arthur realized distantly that he was kneeling on the floor. But he didn’t care and, lords, was his throat getting smaller? Arthur gasped desperately for air, but almost none of it reached his lungs, leaving them burning and screaming for more. Merlin was talking to Arthur, but it sounded like he was under water. Or maybe  _ Arthur _ was the one under water—it sure as hell felt like it. 

Merlin shook Arthur’s shoulders a bit, allowing him to focus on his words. “Arthur, just tell me what’s wrong—”

Arthur just reacted without thinking and he touched a hand to Merlin’s chin. Merlin looked utterly lost until Arthur showed him the blood— _ Merlin’s blood _ —running slick and sticky over Arthur’s fingers. Then, Merlin must’ve finally understood. 

“Oh, Arthur. It’s just a nosebleed, I’m alright.”

Arthur shook his head, because what if it  _ wasn’t _ ? He could barely breathe now, the thought of Merlin having another fit—helpless, vulnerable, in pain—was just all too much.

“Merlin—” Arthur managed with a choked gasp.

Suddenly Arthur’s chin was resting on Merlin’s shoulder and Merlin’s arms were around him. “Arthur, do you feel me breathing? Try to breathe with me,” Merlin whispered gently into his ear.

Arthur breathed, fighting for control over his failing lungs. He knew without a doubt that he was shaking now, he could feel each tremor wracking his frame. But Merlin was steady as a rock, breathing calmly and evenly, and Arthur latched onto that with his entire being. It was only when his breathing had slowed to a more bearable rhythm that Arthur realized the irony of it all—that Arthur was the one shaking in Merlin’s arms now. 

Arthur sniffed, surprised to find that his eyes felt wet. He leaned back and Merlin pulled away. His eyes were also wet. They sat there for several minutes on the floor, Arthur breathing and Merlin wiping futilely at his nose.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I never thought to ask how the succubus affected you.”

Arthur shook his head. “I—I don’t know why I reacted like that. If anyone should have freaked out, it should’ve been you. I had no right after all you went through.” Arthur hated the way his voice shook.

Merlin looked shocked, his face contorting into a frown. “You have every right to panic sometimes, Arthur. You were there for me the entire time, of course that took a toll on you. It’s just my turn to return the favor.”

Arthur was thoughtful for a moment. “Is that what just happened? I panicked?”

Merlin nodded, his eyes full of compassion and understanding. “I believe it was a panic attack. You’re only human, Arthur. Even high-and-mighty royal prats can freak out from time-to-time.”

Arthur scoffed at the light jab. “If you tell anyone, I’ll put you in the stocks for a week.” Arthur hadn’t sent Merlin to the stocks since before he had become king, but Merlin didn’t mention that. Instead, he delivered a lopsided smile. It was then that Arthur realized his tremors had stopped. 

“Now, help your king up off the floor and clean up all the blood you've managed to smear the floor with. Not to mention all that blood on your face. Honestly, Merlin, if you ever get a nosebleed again... ” Arthur trailed off. 

Merlin quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Just, don’t scare me like that again. I don’t fancy having another panic attack ever again.”

Merlin smiled, and Arthur felt himself smiling back despite himself. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s a wrap! I’m actually kind of sad to say goodbye to this fic—I had a great time writing it, and I hope you all had a great time reading it! Thank you so much for reading and responding to this story. XOXO


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